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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

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The Dangers of Hope Ch. 10

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, show level violence

Word Count: 7,447

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Sorry again that this chapter got postponed a day. But here is the conclusion of the series. (Except for the epilogue coming next Saturday - or maybe a little earlier. 😉) I've absolutely loved writing this series. Loved living in the Endverse for a while, so thank you so much to everyone who came along with me. And an extra, super-duper thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged their thoughts about the story as we went along. Kind words fuel authors. ❤️ And oh yeah, this chapter's a bit long. Sorry! 😊

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N didn’t want to look away, she wanted to keep her eyes on Dean. But the white light was absolutely blinding and she eventually had no choice but to turn away from it. The rush of white noise was almost deafening before becoming suddenly silent.

There was only darkness behind her eyelids now so Y/N opened her eyes and stood up straight, looking at Dean where he still stood, halfway between her and Zachariah. His back was to her and she took a step towards him.

“Dean?” She questioned quietly.

He turned slightly so he could see her over his shoulder. He peered at her for a moment, almost scientifically, before he gave his head a brief shake.

“No.”

Y/N would never be able to explain it, but somehow it was Dean’s face, Dean's voice, and yet it wasn’t him. Something was missing from his sparkling, jewel green eyes.

This was Michael. Dean was gone.

Without a moment’s pause, the archangel strode towards the other angels and in the span of a breath they were all gone, leaving behind only the sound of fluttering wings.

Y/N stood stock still, staring at the empty, open field where Dean had stood less than a minute before. Around her chaos began to spread. The people who’d been putting out the fire were rushing towards them now, trying to find out what was going on. Screams echoed as people saw Johnston lying dead on the ground.

Everyone was asking her questions, but she had no answers, she had no words. She just stood, as people rushed around her, feeling as though she’d wake up at any moment. She’d wake up and Dean’s arms would be around her and when he woke she’d tell him about the horrible dream and how scary it had been and he’d hold her gently and tell her it was all just a nightmare.

“...I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe…Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.”

Dean’s soft words whispered their way into her mind and she shivered. This couldn’t be happening.

Without warning her knees buckled and she fell to the muddy, wet ground, her muscles simply going limp. She covered her face as more tears began to fall. She felt the weight of all her tears gathering in her chest, threatening to crush her, when suddenly she heard Risa calling her name.

When she looked up the soldier was standing over her, still holding Emma in her arms.

“Y/N, you can’t. You just can’t right now. Emma needs you, and I’ve got to… “ She waved an arm towards the people who were panicking all around them.

Y/N felt her mind rebelling, all she wanted was to sit there in the mud and let the cool night air numb her to the all-consuming ache spreading throughout her body.

But she looked up into Emma’s little, terrified face, and forced herself to really hear the horror and confusion all around her; she knew she couldn’t just fall apart.

She nodded at Risa and pushed herself to her feet. She took Emma from her and the other woman gave her a nod and moved into action, working with Cas and her fellow soldiers to start organizing the chaos, trying to get campers back to their tents. They also started debating how best to deal with the burnt out cabin and Johnston’s lifeless body

For her part, Y/N simply turned away from the cacophony and walked slowly back to the red tent. Emma was sobbing on her shoulder and Y/N gathered every ounce of her exhausted strength to try and console her little girl.

When they reached the tent Y/N set Emma down on her cot and wrapped a warm blanket around her while she went to light the stove and warm up the tent. After standing out in the cool night air for so long with no jackets, getting them warm was the first order of business.

Before long the little stove was chugging out ample heat, and she went back over to Emma and snuggled her daughter into her lap. After a while the little girl’s tears subsided into deep, shuddering breaths. Her voice was tiny and quiet when she spoke.

“Dean is gone.”

Y/N felt the whispered words pierce her heart. “Yeah, baby.”

“Will he come back?”

“Yes.” Y/N said it without thinking, her soul making the decision. But she didn’t want to lie to her child either, so she amended her comment. “I’m sure he’s going to try really hard to come back.”

Emma seemed to accept that and was quiet for a little while. Then she spoke again, her soft words tinged with fear.

“Did the bad man kill Eric?”

Y/N squeezed her tighter and nodded against the top of her head. “Yes, baby, because he’s a very bad man.”

“Will he come back to kill us?”

Y/N felt her stomach plummet with fear and heartbreak that her daughter’s mind was so clouded with terror.

Y/N shook her head. “No, baby. He won’t come back now.” She hoped she wasn’t lying.

“Because Dean saved us?”

Y/N felt as though her heart was being crushed. “Yeah, sweet pea, because Dean saved us.”

***

The next few days passed in a haze for Y/N. She was trying desperately to keep it together for Emma’s sake. Her daughter was having nightmares every night and the last thing she needed was her mother crumbling on her. But Y/N was barely sleeping, no more than a couple of hours a night. Every ounce of her being felt exhausted - worn out beyond measure.

There were no classes to teach, thank goodness; the camp was still disorganized and a bit scattered. A dozen or so campers had left, afraid of more angel retaliation. The campers left behind were trying to salvage what they could from the big cabin, and deal with the rest of the burnt out building.

Three days after Dean had gone, Cas came to their tent in the evening, carrying extra wood and asking Y/N if she needed anything.

“No, Cas, we’re good. You don’t have to worry about us.” She said with a forced smile.

“I told Dean I would take care of you.” He said with conviction. “It’s still cold at night, hence the wood. What else do you need?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, Cas. Really.”

He lifted his chin towards Emma who was sleeping on her cot. “How is she?”

Y/N gave a small shrug. “She's trying to cope, like all of us.”

He nodded and then headed out. As he lifted the tent flap, Y/N called him back. When he turned his bright blue gaze on her she hesitated before asking the question that wouldn't leave her mind.

“Can we get him back? Somehow?”

Cas stared at her intensely for a moment before his eyes softened slightly; his deep voice was gentle as he spoke.

“We can hope.”

Y/N closed her eyes. “Yes. Hope.”

When she opened her eyes again, the angel was gone.

***

A week after Dean left they still hadn't figured out any way to get him back, or even how to find him. Cas had begun to hear angel radio again, but the angels were being very quiet. Just the odd remark here and there that made Cas believe that they were still in Kansas, but he couldn't be sure.

The camp had gone back to functioning - mostly. But people kept saying things like, “We’ll run it by the Boss and see what he says.” before realizing that was impossible. The soldiers were trying to run things smoothly between them, and Brandy was helping to keep things as organized as possible.

But Dean was very missed.

A full eight days after losing him, Y/N sat up at the table one night, desperately trying to think up a way to get Dean back to her. Her eyes were scratchy and red-rimmed as she let her head fall into her hands.

She may have fallen asleep right there if there hadn't been a sudden burst of white light. It lit up the tent, blinding her. As it faded slightly, she could just make out a man's shape. Her heart leapt for a moment before realizing this man was much too small to be Dean.

A deep booming voice spoke and shook the ground around them.

“Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. Fear not, Y/N: for thou hast - Ow! Son of a bitch!”

The angel cut off his proclamation and held up his hands as Y/N smacked him repeatedly with a broom. The last of his angelic light went out like a candle and he grabbed the broom away from Y/N and snapped it with incredible ease.

“What the hell, lady?” He rubbed the side of his head where she'd walloped him. “You know that worked great with Mary. SHE knew how to be ‘sore afraid’.”

Y/N went to Emma's cot where her daughter was crying silently, obviously horrified to see another angel, inside their tent this time.

“Get out!” Y/N said with as much strength as she could muster.

“You really don't want that, trust me.” The angel said, his hazel eyes twinkling, a smirk on his thin lips.

“Who are you; what do you want?”

He gave a little bow. “Name’s Gabriel, but I prefer Loki.”

The tent flap opened and suddenly Cas was there with Risa and Patrick flanking him. But Cas pulled up short when he saw the other angel.

“Gabriel?”

“Hey, bro!” Gabriel said cheerfully.

Cas looked to the two soldiers on either side of him. “I'm fine here. You should patrol the area. Look for anything amiss or out of place. But don't approach it without me.”

Both soldiers gave a curt nod and left.

Cas came fully into the tent and his face was very wary. “Gabriel, what are you doing here? Where have you been for the last thousand Millenia or so? Most of us thought you were dead.”

“Nope.” Gabriel's voice was still nonchalant and cheery. “Just in a sort of witness relocation. Got sick to death of Daddy's beefs and Lucifer and Michael's petty squabbling. So, I took a little time off. Sailed around, saw the world, got myself a brand new face.”

He framed his face with his two hands. “Cute, right?”

Cas just frowned at him and Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You have never known how to have fun Castiel.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Well, these humans are under my protection, so I'll save the fun until after you tell me what you're doing here.”

Gabriel lost his smirk and he crossed his arms. “Isn't it obvious? I'm here to save the day, as always.”

Cas scoffed. “Not likely. You tend to sew chaos.”

Gabriel shrugged. “What can I say, it's a talent.” He moved back to lean against the table.

“But seriously, I'm so over this apocalypse. As soon as Lucy dumped his little virus on this world, I was outta here. No fun to be had with a bunch of humans barely clinging to life. So, I traveled near and far, all over the galaxy and a little bit further. It's been sort of fun. But let me tell you, there are only so many green-skinned, six-legged chicks you can bang before you start pining for home, you know?”

He gave his head a shake. “Don't know how Captain Kirk did it.”

“Get to the point, brother.” Cas said, annoyance lacing his tone.

“I'm here to help.”

“So you said. How?” Cas asked harshly.

Gabriel shrugged again. “I have a way to shove Lucifer and Michael into the cage.”

From his pocket he pulled out an oddly shaped object. It was an X made up of four circles, four rings, by the looks of it.

He held it up. “Borrowed these from the horsemen. Well,” he shrugged, “to be fair, only Death was willing to part with his, the others didn't wanna give ‘em up easily. But, you know, archangel trumps most. I was glad Death was so cooperative though, he woulda been a tough one to beat.”

Cas stepped up to him and held out his hand. Gabriel dropped the cross into it and Cas peered at it closely.

“The horsemen’s rings. What will this do?”

Gabriel's voice was quiet. “Keys to the cage, brother.”

Cas’ eyes widened. “Lucifer’s cage?”

Gabriel nodded. “And Michael’s too.” He paused for a beat. “And mine.”

Cas frowned. “Yours? Why would you throw yourself into the cage?”

Gabriel shrugged, but Y/N could see a flicker of some deep emotion pass over his mobile features.

“Someone’s gotta pull those two down there. And I’d say after millions of years, and untold damage to the world, me and my brothers could use some time alone and family therapy.”

He allowed a smile to turn up the corner of his mouth.”From what I understand old Raffy’s taken up as a god on some distant planet. He always did like to be worshiped.” He shrugged again, his smirk firmly back in place. “So, it’s just the three of us.”

Cas shook his head. “Why are you doing all of this, Gabriel?”

The archangel took back the key to the cage and slipped it into his pocket. “Told ya, got sick of banging green chicks on Mars.”

“No. That's…there are no green women on Mars.” Cas said, looking at Y/N as though to reassure her.

Y/N stood up and walked the few steps to where Gabriel stood, looking him straight in the eye. “Can you bring Dean back?”

Gabriel contemplated her for a moment and then shook his head. “No.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch, and she opened her mouth to shout at him, but Gabriel held up a hand, patting his pocket with the other. “With this I can open the cage, and I can pull my brothers down with me to be locked away. But if you want Dean back, you’ve gotta get him to toss Michael first. Otherwise, his body and soul come down too.”

Y/N began to panic. “What are you talking about? You are not dragging Dean down to hell, no matter what!” She shouted, her fists balled. “I will not let you.”

Gabriel’s smile looked genuine for the first time as he looked at Y/N fuming in front of him before turning to Cas. “She’s feisty! Dean knows how to pick ‘em!”

He looked back at Y/N and held both his hands up in surrender. “Look, I can’t extract Michael from Dean’s body, it doesn’t work that way; Dean has to be the one to throw him out. And there’s nothing I could say to give him that kind of strength.” He tilted his head slightly. “But you might be able to. You’re our best shot.”

He looked to Cas. “If she can get Dean to toss Michael, I’ll grab on to him. I’ll be able to hold him for a little while. Hopefully long enough to get to Lucifer and try to get Sam Winchester to eject him.”

He shook his head. “That one’s gonna be a lot harder, and I’m not gonna lie, I don’t hold out very much hope. I also don’t know what kind of shape Sam’s gonna be in even if he can get him out. He’s held Lucifer for five years now, he might be too far gone.”

Cas nodded. “If we can get Dean, he can get Sam. Or, he’ll be the best chance anyway. And if Sam manages to eject Lucifer, Dean won’t care what condition he’s in, he’ll fix him.”

Gabriel gave a nod. “We’ll see, I suppose. But we gotta start with Dean so…” He looked at Y/N. “What do you say, beautiful?”

Y/N contemplated him for a moment before looking at Cas. “Do you trust him?”

Cas was quiet for a long time, looking Gabriel over, the debate clear in his expression.

The archangel rolled his eyes. “Thanks, bro.”

Finally Cas nodded. “Yes, I believe we can trust him.”

Y/N took a deep breath, hope and fear spreading throughout her body in equal measure. “Okay, then let’s go save the Winchesters.”

***

Their traveling party was prepared and ready to go in very little time, most of which was spent explaining to Emma why she couldn’t come.

Y/N knew how terrified her little girl must be, thinking she was losing her mother now too. Eventually though, her tears subsided and her little face became resolved to what was happening. It broke Y/N’s heart to see that resolve, to know that her daughter’s soft heart was getting tougher.

Y/N swore to herself that she was going to bring Dean home, and they would live happily ever after, spoiling Emma and letting her go soft once again.

Before they left, Y/N gave Monique a hug and thanked her again. She’d pulled her friend aside earlier and spoken quietly with her, asking her to take care of Emma if anything should happen to her. Tears had welled up in Monique’s beautiful amber eyes but she’d clasped Y/N’s hands tightly.

“I will always look after Emma as my very own.” She shook her head and dashed away her tears. “But you’ll be back in no time, I’m sure. So, I’ll see you soon.”

The soldiers, Brandy and Monique had all checked privately with Y/N about whether or not she was really okay to set off with two angels. Y/N reassured them that she trusted Cas completely and he trusted Gabriel. So she did too. Besides, she’d reasoned, if this was their only possibility to save Dean, she had to take it.

Gabriel said he knew just where Michael was staying, so she held Cas’ hand as the archangel tapped his brother’s shoulder and in a blink they were suddenly standing just outside a rundown Victorian house.

The springtime sun was just beginning to lighten the sky in the East as they popped into existence on the sidewalk outside the house.

She hadn’t even had time to wave goodbye.

The three of them walked slowly up the front stairs and through the door. As they entered the house they heard a voice call from the back.

“The polite thing to do would have been to call first, you know.”

Y/N felt her heart leap. She recognized Dean’s voice, but it sounded different. The consonants were more clipped, the words more even in tone, almost bland, bored. His voice had none of Dean’s rough, expressive way of speaking.

The dissonance continued as they walked into the sitting room and found Dean. He held himself ramrod straight, and when he turned towards them, his face held none of Dean’s stony anger, or joyful exuberance. It too was bland, cold, his normally shining, emerald eyes looked almost empty.

Looking at this version of Dean was very difficult. Somehow being in front of this non-Dean made Y/N miss him even more.

But he never spared her a glance. All his attention was on his brothers. “Castiel, it’s been a long time. And Gabriel,” he looked him up and down, “it’s been even longer. Millions of years, in fact. I almost didn’t recognize you in this vessel.”

“Yeah, got this one custom made by a good friend of mine.” He ran a hand across his chest. “I’ve grown quite fond of my earthly form, so I’m happy I don’t have to share it with a human, and I don’t ever have to turn into a bright white mist, cause there's no human inside to reject me. This beautiful face is mine all mine.”

He smiled wide, but Michael just frowned. “That’s sacrilege, brother. Our angelic form is greater than any human disguise.”

Gabriel shrugged. “But they sure come in handy don’t they. If you wanna get anything done on earth, they really are a necessity.” He raised a hand towards him. “Hence all your trouble to get this one.”

Gabriel's tone became grandiose and overwrought. “For here is your sword, your one true vessel. Destined for eons to be the one human whose bones you were the most eager to jump.”

Michael stared at him soundlessly for a moment and then spoke in the same even, emotionless tone. “Why are you here, Gabriel? And why have you brought this human?” He pointed at Y/N, but still didn’t look at her.

Gabriel paused a beat before answering. “Well, we have a bone to pick with you.”

That was the signal to spur Cas into action. A white light shot out from Gabriel’s hands, connecting him to Michael. As the two archangels fought, Michael trying desperately to break the hold Gabriel had on him, Cas ran in front of him, drawing a straight line from wall to wall in holy oil and then dropping a lit match, trapping Michael behind the line of flame.

Gabriel let his brother go, grunting with effort as the connection broke. Michael’s borrowed face was no longer emotionless, it was furious and bubbling with hate.

“How dare you!” He shouted at Gabriel. “How dare you try to interfere with my destiny. This fight has been postponed for five long years while Lucifer ran amok. It is my duty to fight him and end him!”

Gabriel was scowling at his big brother a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. “You said doody.”

Everyone paused to look at him askance, and he shrugged. “What? That’s funny! Nobody has a sense of humor these days.”

He shook his finger at Michael. “You know who would have laughed at that, the man you’re possessing. He would have thought it was hilarious. Or at least, he would have before the apocalypse struck. Been a bit down in the mouth since Lucifer possessed his brother and ended the world.”

Michael was still livid and he spoke through gritted teeth. “We tried to tell Dean that I needed my sword, that I needed my vessel to fight Lucifer, but he wouldn’t listen. He brought this on humanity.”

“Bullshit!” Gabriel called out and all traces of his humor were gone. “You could have used another vessel, you could have made due as Lucifer did before Sam. But no, you wanted THIS vessel.” He pointed at Dean. “And you were pissed you couldn’t have him, so you threw a hissy fit and left the world to burn.”

Silence reigned for a moment before Gabriel spoke again, quiet now. “And I left with you. I cashed in my chips and walked away from the table. But I kept an eye on humanity while I was galivanting around the universe. Kind of an old habit, and what I saw shocked me. The world was over, civilization destroyed, and yet - on they all trudged. These people. These humans. They kept on fighting. These flawed broken toys we all mocked and looked down on, they fought, they loved, they helped each other, they won and lost, but no matter what, they just kept going.”

Michael was motionless as Gabriel continued, pointing towards Y/N. “And just as there was a possibility of hope, just as they found a way they might be able to win, might be able to restart the world, here you come again, army in tow, ready to level the planet all over. And for what? So you can fight some ancient grudge match with our brother?” He shook his head. “What is the bloody point?”

Dean’s jaw ticked with Michael’s annoyance. “It’s my destiny. It’s what I was created to do.”

Gabriel looked sad as he glanced over at Y/N. “Well, not if she can help it.”

Y/N knew this was her time, it was on her now to help Dean find strength enough to eject the possessing angel. Michael’s cold eyes looked at her through Dean’s sparkling jade and she closed her own for a moment, imagining the warmth in Dean’s expression before she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Dean, can you hear me? I need you to listen, I need you to trust me. Throw him out. I’ll be safe, Emma and I will both be safe now. But I need you to come back home.”

“Dean isn’t available at the moment.” Michael said darkly. But she could see him squinting, almost as though he was in pain and Y/N chose to believe that Dean was fighting him from the inside.

She kept talking as though Michael hadn't spoken.

“I have so many plans for us. Once we’ve made the cure possible, and the world is able to begin again, I really want us to go back home, back to Chitaqua. I wanna build a cabin there. Nothing fancy, you know, just something a bit bigger than the tent, but still cozy - with a bedroom door that locks.” She finished with a wide grin.

She stepped a little closer to him, careful to avoid the flame. “And, of course, I think we’re gonna have to get Emma that dog she asked for. And we can celebrate birthdays and holidays with all of our friends and family. We’ll keep them all close, and safe.”

Michael was stepping back from her, looking away and shaking his head as though he was dizzy.

“Dean, I love you so much. All I want is to spend my life with you. Please kick him out. I know how strong you are, I know you can do it.”

“I’ll kill her!” Michael screamed out suddenly, as though his inner thoughts weren’t loud enough for Dean to hear. “You understand me? If you want her to live, want to keep her safe, stop fighting me. Now!”

Michael was breathing hard, but a joyless smile was spreading across Dean's beautiful face; the archangel was obviously pleased.

“That's better.” He whispered, still slightly out of breath.

They were losing Dean, she could see it. Michael was terrorizing him again with threats against her. So, acting purely on instinct, Y/N made one last attempt, one huge Hail Mary.

She took a deep breath and leapt over the fire, throwing her arms around Dean’s neck. She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him with every ounce of love and passion she could muster.

She put everything into the kiss, every moment she’d loved him, and every promise she was making him were all there, tied up with all the hope in her heart.

She felt a tingling against her lips that started to burn as she pulled away. She jumped back and fell to the ground as Dean let out a roar, and his mouth opened wide. The blinding white light that had consumed him was being forced back out of him, in an incredible light show that ended abruptly as Gabriel reached out and pulled the light into himself.

The darkness was complete for a moment before Y/N’s eyes could adjust. As the world came into focus, she could see Gabriel on the other side of the flame, breathing hard and fast. Cas walked to his side and poured some of his own white light into Gabriel, which seemed to stabilize him slightly.

But his voice was still wobbly when he spoke. “We gotta go. I don’t know how long I can hold him in here with me.”

Y/N nodded and crawled over to where Dean had fallen to the floor. She turned his face towards her just as his eyes fluttered open.

“Y/N?” He whispered and she nodded at him with tears flowing.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m safe. We’re all safe.”

Dean shook his head. “But how…” He sat up slowly and looked towards where Cas and Gabriel stood. He squinted and shook his head in confusion. “The Trickster’s an angel?”

Cas’ eyes widened as he looked at Gabriel. “You were the Trickster the boys went up against? Twice?”

Dean’s voice was slightly annoyed. “Yeah, he killed me like a million times.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch, but Gabriel just waved it away as nothing. “I was trying to teach you boys something; wasn’t my finest moment maybe, but you gotta admit, the tacos were funny.”

“Not to me, asshole.” Dean grumbled. Y/N was very confused and about to ask for clarification when Gabriel bent double.

“Ugh!” He groaned. “Okay, could you postpone my spanking for that very hilarious prank until after I’ve saved you all?”

Y/N nodded and helped Dean to his feet. Gabriel looked at him. “Okay, pal, this one’s on you. We’re gonna go get Lucifer so I can toss all of us into the cage. We can try to get Sam to chuck him first. We’ll need you for that. But if you can’t get him, and it seems like Lucifer might get away, I’ll grab Sam as is and jump into the cage.”

Dean stormed up to him. “You are not taking my brother to hell, you understand me?”

Gabriel just shrugged. “Then I guess you better reach him before it’s too late.”

He groaned again as he fought his brother internally, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his head. Without saying any more, they all got into position so Gabriel could zap them to Lucifer’s location.

Just before he could manage it however, there was a bellow of rage from behind them, making them all turn. From the doorway, Zachariah charged forward, angel blade bared and aimed for Dean’s jugular.

Dean shoved Y/N out of the way as the angel charged them like a bull. But when he was just a couple feet from Dean, Cas stuck his foot out, sending the furious angel spilling to the ground in a comical looking pratfall.

He fell onto the still burning holy fire and screamed in pain, rolling around, trying to escape the flames. Before he could pull himself free, however, Dean grabbed onto the silver blade the angel had dropped. He raised it high, and then plunged it deep into his throat, forever freezing the angel's sadistic face in agony.

More blinding white lights burst out of the dying angel, forcing Y/N to once again cover her head and shield her eyes. When she reopened them, she could see the angel’s blackened wings, as his empty vessel was slowly consumed in the flame.

Dean stood up and then helped Y/N to her feet. After giving her a once over to determine she was alright, he turned to Cas.

“Nice job, buddy. Very Keystone Cops.”

Cas frowned. “I don’t know an officer by that name.”

Dean just smiled and then slipped the blade into his pocket as he looked down at the dead angel.

“Good riddance.” He said under his breath before a panting Gabriel yanked him back into position and zapped them all away.

Suddenly, in another heartbeat, they were all standing in a bombed out street; the buildings around them were crumbling and burnt. It was all that was left after some of the original fighting between the army and the Croats five years before. The bombings hadn’t worked.

As they stood looking around, a man caught their eye. He was strolling out of one of the buildings less than twenty feet away; he was very tall and had long brown hair and an easy stride.

Y/N could hear Dean gasp slightly beside her and she took his hand. The man, who could only be Lucifer, slowed down as he approached them. His smile was soft and patronizing.

“Well, well. This is a surprise. What a merry little band of rebels you’ve all turned into.”

He nodded at Gabriel. “Our brothers and sisters all thought you must have been killed somewhere, but I knew better.” He studied him for a minute before smirking. “And I see he got hold of you, Mikey!” He said loudly. He chuckled. “He always was a cuck.”

He frowned slightly as he spared barely a glance for the rest of them. “But Gabe, buddy if you’re here to try and put me back in that cage?” He raised his hand and closed it into a fist and Gabriel began coughing as though he was choking. “Well, that simply isn’t going to happen.”

Cas ran forward to help, but Lucifer tossed him aside with a sweep of his hand. Dean pushed Y/N to crouch behind an upside down car. “Stay here.” He warned, before turning back towards his brother.

“Sammy?” He called tentatively. Lucifer looked over at him and dropped Gabriel to the ground as he let him go. He faced Dean and shook his head.

“You.” The devil said, his voice menacing. “You have no idea how sick I am of you. Do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to Sammy bellyaching about how he was letting you down? Do you know how ANNOYING it is to execute a perfect reign of terror just to have this boy,” he banged his chest, “weeping in my head instead of truly reveling in it with me?”

He shook his head. “It’s only been quiet in here since I threatened to find you and end you. See that’s how I got Sammy’s cooperation in the first place. I promised that if he said yes I wouldn’t snap your neck like kindling.”

He waved towards Dean dismissively. “You were sound asleep at the time, you wouldn’t remember this. But Sam finally said yes, as I always knew he would, and in return I promised that you could keep on living. So when Sam wouldn’t shut up and stop whining, a simple threat to revoke our original deal was enough to silence him.”

He smiled, and Y/N thought it was pure sin for such a sweet, dimpled smile to sit on the face of evil. Lucifer tilted his head slightly as though he was listening to something.

“But now…hey Sammy.” He said in a silky tone. “Been quiet so long, I'd actually started to miss you.”

Dean took a step closer. “Sammy, can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m so sorry, more than I can ever say. I never should’ve walked away from you. We should have fought these assholes together. I should have known that we’re stronger together than apart.”

He swallowed. “But you’ve gotta chuck him. We’ve got a plan, little brother, we can win. Believe me.”

Lucifer rolled Sam’s bright, hazel eyes just before he slammed his fist into Dean’s face, almost knocking him to the ground.

Gabriel shot light at his brother, but it was much weaker than what he’d thrown at Michael; so much of his strength was being used to keep Michael locked inside himself. Cas added his strength, but Lucifer quickly pushed them both away, severing their hold on him.

Blood gushed from Dean’s lip, his jaw already swollen and purple, as he started forward again.

“Sammy, I need you to force him out. I know how strong you are. I know you can do it. I never should have doubted it, never should have believed they could defeat us. We are Winchesters and we never-”

He broke off as Lucifer landed two more swift blows to his face, causing a sickening crack as Dean’s nose shattered and he crashed to the ground.

Y/N gasped and jumped up, running forward even though there was nothing she could possibly do. Gabriel and Cas fought him again, forcing Lucifer to stumble back slightly. But he found his footing quickly and severed the hold as he had before, this time sending both angels sailing through the air.

Lucifer stared at Dean, hatred spreading across Sam's handsome features. "I am done with you." He shouted. "You are not worth my time."

Looking as though it was a struggle, as though the body he was possessing was fighting back, Lucifer raised his arm, his fingers poised to snap. Y/N screamed, memories bursting in her mind of the swiftness with which Zachariah had ended Johnston’s life with a mere snap.

But before he could manage it, Lucifer once again stumbled backwards. This time, however, Cas and Gabriel had barely risen from the ground and were just walking back towards them.

Lucifer dropped his arm and fell suddenly to his knees. “No.” He whispered, shock suffusing the word, and then he screamed. “No!” The ground shook and rumbled, knocking all of them down.

Suddenly a burst of white light erupted from Sam’s mouth, and as he had before, Gabriel reached forward with his own light to trap his brother.

The light suffused the archangel-turned-Trickster; it was no longer being wholly contained within himself, but spilling out of him as he tried to hold on to all of their angelic forms within his one custom-made vessel.

Jerkily he reached into his pocket and threw the key at Cas. “Now, brother!”

Cas tossed it to the ground and began chanting. As the chant ended, a wide hole began to crack open in the street.

Gabriel pitched forward towards the hole, but his body seemed to be disobeying his commands - his brothers were fighting against him with all their strength. The light emanating from Gabriel seemed to be splitting, as though the other two archangels were separating from him.

With one last surge of strength, Gabriel leapt forward and dove headfirst into the hole in front of him. There were deafening sounds of furious screaming that were quickly swallowed up as the ground closed around them.

There was only silence for a long time, as they all struggled to get their bearings, to reconcile what had just happened.

Y/N was the first to move, running to Dean just as he stood up, and then collapsing in his arms. Dean held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and then cupping her cheeks to kiss her mouth, hard and fast. He pulled away and smiled.

Cas stepped forward to tap his fingers to Dean's forehead, instantly clearing the blood and bruises.

Dean nodded and smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, Cas.”

He looked back at Y/N and his beautiful eyes and mobile, expressive face were once again his own and Y/N rejoiced.

Dean turned them both to face Sam where he still knelt on the ground. With a quick squeeze, Dean stepped away from her to reach out a hand to his little brother.

Sam hesitated only a moment before he took it and let Dean pull him to his feet. The two men stared at each other for a minute before Dean yanked Sam towards him to wrap the taller man up in a bear hug, his arms wrapping over Sam’s shoulders and clinging tightly.

Sam’s face crumpled slightly and he crushed his brother’s ribs as he hugged him back. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t…” He trailed off, but Dean was shaking his head.

“No, Sam, no.” He pulled back to clap his hand against the side of Sam’s neck. “This isn’t on you.” Sam gave him a look and Dean shook his head. “Well, it’s certainly not all on you. We both fucked up, but we have a chance to fix things now.”

He turned back to Y/N and held his arm out towards her. She stepped forward to take his hand. Dean was beaming as he made the introductions.

“Sam, Y/N, Y/N, Sam.” Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean grinned. “Meet my wife.”

Sam’s eyes widened and Y/N gasped. “What?” She squeaked.

Dean shrugged. “Well okay, maybe there’s still the formalities to go through, like the wedding ceremony.”

“And a proposal!” Y/N said, laughing from sheer joy, utter exhaustion and the madness of their new reality.

Dean grinned at her. “You saying you don’t wanna?”

Y/N beamed up at him. “Definitely not saying that.”

Cas interrupted. “Before you start planning the wedding, can we go home?”

Sam looked dazed and spoke softly as though trying to decide if it was all just a dream. “Where is home?”

Dean clapped him on the back. “Camp Chitaqua. You’re gonna love it, Sammy! Trust me. It’s paradise.”

“With outhouses.” Y/N said with a snort.

Sam’s smile was soft, and it suited his kind, handsome face much more than it had ever fit the devil.

“Sounds perfect. Let’s go home.”

Cas stepped forward and in a blink they were back in the field where the spring vegetables were just sprouting - where they could hear the voices of their friends and neighbors, and smell the thick scent of pine and new earth.

There was a cry of shock as the campers saw them all suddenly standing there. Shouts conveyed the message quickly throughout the camp and everyone came running to see their return.

Y/N let out a cry of happiness as she saw Emma racing towards her, her little legs eating up the distance surprisingly fast. As she reached them, Dean scooped her up and pulled Y/N into the circle of his embrace so that the three of them hugged each other tightly.

The rest of the day was spent celebrating and rejoicing, hours of storytelling, and off-key singing around campfires, food shared and enjoyed by everyone.

Eventually, Dean, Y/N and Emma broke away to bring Sam to Dean’s old tent. They lit a lamp and Dean gave Sam the grand tour, pointing the way to the outhouses from there, and assuring him the cot was more comfortable than it looked.

Sam nodded, still looking as though he couldn’t take it all in. Seeing his confusion, Y/N kissed Dean on the cheek and picked up Emma’s hand.

“You boys have so much to catch up on. You should take some time together.”

Sam shook his head. “No, you’ve been away from each other long enough. This reunion should be yours.” He said, nodding at Y/N and Dean. Throughout the day he’d been caught up on how everything went down with Michael and Zachariah.

But Y/N shook her head. “We’ve been apart a week, you’ve been apart for years. You need this time.”

Dean looked down at her, love shining in his gaze, before tossing his brother a smile. “Don’t bother arguing, Sammy, she always wins.”

He bent down and kissed Y/N deeply, making Emma curl her lip.

“Ew.” She said succinctly, and Y/N laughed as she pulled out of the kiss.

She looked at Sam and then moved in for a hug. Sam hugged her back and she beamed up at him.

“I'm so glad to know you, Sam Winchester. Welcome home.”

With that she pulled Emma out of the tent to let the brothers get to know each other again.

Hours and hours later, the camp was finally quiet. A lamp glowed here and there as people slowly settled into their tents for the night. A happy peace settled over the camp, blanketing it in coziness and calm.

Y/N had sung Emma to sleep an hour before and was now stretched out on her own cot. She was planning on waiting for Dean to come back from visiting with his brother. But almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, her absolute exhaustion hit her and she was out immediately.

She woke with a start some time later, and then sighed deeply as she felt Dean’s arms tighten around her. Across the room she could hear Emma’s soft snores and her eyes filled with tears as the reality hit her anew that they were all truly together again, safe and sound. She turned in Dean’s arms so she could face him.

“Dean.” She whispered.

He smiled a sleepy smile and kissed her softly. “You were sleeping so soundly when I got home, I didn’t want to disturb you.” He whispered back, voice craggy with sleep.

“How is Sam?” She asked.

Dean sighed. “He’s okay. Gonna take time for him to be a hundred percent, you know. But he’s here, and he’s smiling, and he’s...Sammy.” He shrugged slightly. “So, that’s enough for now.”

Y/N nodded and wiped away a tear, finally making Dean notice them in the dark. His voice sounded slightly worried as he cupped her cheek and thumbed away the wetness. “Sweetheart, you're crying. Why?”

Y/N shook her head. “Because all my hopes and dreams have come true. We’re together, we’re safe, the camp is safe, the devil’s gone, and we actually have a real chance of remaking the world.”

Dean’s voice voice was a bit choked up too as he responded, grinning. “Yeah, but I don't plan on forgetting that promise you made me. When the world is fixed, we’re coming back here to live out our days in a big log cabin with locking doors and indoor plumbing, right?”

Y/N giggled. “I’m not sure about the indoor plumbing, but everything else is definitely in the cards, I hope.”

Dean pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Well, we’re in the business of hope, so I think our chances are good.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#dean winchster #endverse!dean #endverse!dean fan fic #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #endverse!fan fic series #endverse #the dangers of hope #chapter 10

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heliads · 12 days

Text

seven devils all around me - connor lassiter x roland taggart

Connor Lassiter is stuck in the basement beneath an antique store. Roland Taggart is waiting for him.

masterlist

They take the Unwinds away one by one.

It makes it better, somehow. The waiting. Better and worse. Better, because this means they’ll each individually move faster than if everyone was removed from the cellar underneath Sonia’s antique shop in one great, easily distracted group. Better, because there’s a slimmer chance of everyone getting caught by vengeful Juvey-cops if there’s just one feral moving at a time than a group of a dozen dead kids walking.

Worse, because it means that the familiar faces are disappearing slowly but surely. The idea exists that they are being taken somewhere safe, but no one can be certain. All Connor Lassiter knows is that the few people in this world that he even halfway trusts are vanishing into the hands of khaki-uniformed strangers. Every few days, someone else goes up the trapdoor and back into the light, and their numbers shrink down to dust, a not-quite friend group being wound down into a mere handful of uneasy souls.

At first, it didn’t trouble Connor all that much. He pictured it like a doctor’s waiting room: no matter how long he waited, they’d all be seen eventually. A couple of the kids he barely knew were taken first, which didn’t matter, but then he got to know the rest better and their loss hurt more than when he didn’t remember their names, so. That’s what he gets for trying to make friends, apparently.

As their numbers seriously started to thin, though, Connor started getting shifty again. All of a sudden, there were four. Connor and Risa (the baby removed first, probably less out of moral obligation than the need to get the wailing infant out of that tiny space), joined at the hip ever since they crossed paths while running away. Also remaining in the darkness is Hayden in the back, trying out his sarcastic jokes on an ever-shrinking group of people, and, because the universe apparently cannot hate Connor enough, Roland.

Risa goes next. Connor expected to feel more unsettled by her disappearance after so much time spent watching each other’s backs, but instead the first uncharitable thought in his mind is that at least he won’t be glared at every time he says something wrong. He’s not a flawless human being, even if Risa seems to expect that he’ll be just as perfect as she is.

About half a week later, soldiers in khaki come back down the stairs. Connor waits to see which one of the three remaining unwinds they’ll bring out. It must be him or Roland. Connor’s more of a high profile figure at this point, but Roland’s been here longer, and if they’re trying to get the kids who’ve been waiting for greater intervals, they’ve got to take him out first. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking, though.

To Connor’s surprise, the guards instead point to Hayden and gruffly tell him to get a move on. The blond pumps a fist in mock celebration, then glances between Connor and Roland. “Try not to tear each other to pieces, will you? Leave that for the Juveys.”

With those words of wisdom, Hayden heads for the door, not inclined to loiter in the dark basement any more than he has to. Connor can’t blame him. If he had the chance to get out, he’d sprint up those stairs in a heartbeat.

The guards replenish some of the supplies in the basement, then leave at last, shutting the trapdoor behind them with an ominous thud. Connor is left with the chilling realization that Hayden was the last person who could possibly stand between him and Roland. Now that Hayden’s gone, nothing can stop Roland from finally acting on the hatred that’s been simmering between both of them from the second Connor got here.

Connor can’t believe they’d actually leave him here with Roland. When you have two guys who obviously hate each other’s guts, you don’t abandon them to each other. It reminds Connor of a riddle he heard when he was a kid– a chicken, some corn, and a fox stuck on one side of a river, a raft only big enough for two passengers, and a hapless farmer forced to figure out the order in which to ferry his passengers across so nothing gets eaten. Whoever’s playing the game with their lives has obviously fucked up this round, but unlike in a riddle, there are no second tries. Connor is left to get consumed by the fox eyeing him coldly from the other side of the basement.

Above him, the footsteps of the guards and Hayden bleed away, softened by antique rugs and then gone for good. Most days, Connor likes to pretend that he can hear trucks coming and going. It makes him believe that maybe there is a plan for all of them after they leave, that they won’t just be dumped somewhere alone again.

Today, though, he hates it. Hates them for leaving them here. Shouldn’t they know better? Even Hayden managed to figure that out in the span of a second. Any soldier with a week of experience should be able to tell that you don’t stick the two kids who hate each other the most in a dark basement with only the other for company. Already, Connor’s eyes are adjusting to the gloom again, but he doesn’t like the sight any better than he did on his first day.

“So,” a cold voice rings out across the semi-darkness. “They actually left us here alone. Didn’t think they’d do it.”

Connor scoffs, trying not to let any sign of apprehension slip through. “What, you got bored of my lively personality?”

“Humor doesn’t suit you, Connor,” Roland drawls. “Hayden got away with it because we liked him better than you. You can’t hide behind him any longer, though. It’s just us down here. Just you and me.”

“Charming,” Connor mumbles. “But it’ll be over in a few days. Then one of us will be alone. I hope it’s you.”

Something almost like sympathy twists at Connor’s gut as he says it. Even though he despises Roland, the thought of being alone down here in the dark and depressing basement is a fate he would kill to avoid. If he’s thinking that, though, Roland probably is too. And if Connor is willing to kill to not be the one left behind, Roland must be foaming at the mouth at the thought of it.

Roland chuckles. The sound issues across the basement until it coasts up to Connor, making the hair on his arms stand up with a rush. They’ve positioned themselves to be as far apart as possible, but their placement on opposite sides of the basement means that they’re constantly staring each other dead in the eyes. One blink, one glance away, and one of them could be on the other in a heartbeat. So they keep staring, and no one moves. There are no more bodies to keep between them. Just Connor, and Roland, and the awful distance between.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d love it if they left me here? Bet it would make you feel awfully safe if I was locked up all the time. You think you’re a big man, Connor, but you’re scared of me.”

Connor scoffs and looks away. There’s a little too much knowledge in Roland’s gaze, and it sharpens to a knifepoint between Connor’s brows. In his peripheral vision, Connor can see Roland shifting slightly, jutting his chin up. Proud. Correct. Despicable.

“I’m not scared of you. Guys like you are a dime a dozen. If I wanted a greasy thug, I’d go to a gas station.” Connor spits out.

Roland stands in one swift motion, like he’s been yanked up by an invisible hand. Connor’s head jerks back up, but he’s looked back too late– Roland is already moving. The pretense is gone. Whatever they do here, they’ve been building up to it since the first day.

At first, Roland just hovers on the balls of his feet, leaning casually against the wall behind him. The basement is not tall, and he has to bend slightly so his head doesn’t scrape the ceiling. This gives the impression that Roland is leaning towards him, close enough to reach. Close enough to snap his jaws shut around Connor’s throat.

“You are scared,” Roland breathes triumphantly. “You’re so obvious. Even if you left me here, you’d never stop being scared. You’d go all across the world and you’d never stop thinking about me. I’d be a bigger part of you than anything.”

Connor shakes his head. “You’re wrong. You’re nothing to me.”

“I don’t believe you,” Roland hisses, and he’s across the basement in a second. Connor doesn’t even see him move. He blinks and the other boy is standing right in front of him, the tips of his shoes nudging Connor in the sides. He has Connor bracketed just slightly, hardly touching him but making it obvious that Connor cannot move without Roland’s express permission.

“You can’t do that,” Connor says. He feels like a little boy, whining about someone stealing his toy. “You know the rules.”

Roland actually rolls his eyes. “There’s nobody down here, remember? They can’t see us.”

The rest goes unspoken. Nobody is here. Nobody would know. And nobody would tell. Certainly not Connor. That would mean admitting that he let one boy bother him to the point of telling, and even if they fight, Connor’s not a coward. He’s going to handle this himself.

He tries to stand, but Roland’s hand flashes out to grab him, pushing him down to the ground again by the shoulder.

“Get your hands off of me,” Connor spits.

“Make me,” Roland says, all teeth. He pinches Connor’s shoulder as he says it, further proof of what they both know by now to be true: Roland does what he wants, when he wants. And Connor won’t do a thing to stop it.

“You’re crazy,” Connor says, leaning away from Roland. Maybe the guy will back off if Connor pretends he doesn’t care. “Did you get hit on the head recently? Be honest.”

“It’s sweet of you to ask,” Roland simpers. He sinks to one knee so he can get a better read of Connor’s disgust, and they’re practically breathing each other in now, barely a millimeter between them. “Of course, it’s not your job to worry. Not mine, either. It’s not my head anymore, is it? Belongs to the Juveys. Who knows who’ll get my brain? Maybe you might end up with a piece or two.” He knocks his fist against Connor’s temple, less like a punch, more like a tap against an unlocked door. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Not knowing who was flirting with your girl, me or you? Or maybe my brain’s too good for you. Maybe you’d get my arm instead.”

Connor tries not to let his disgust at the idea show, but he’s not entirely successful. His dislike must be obvious, because Roland flashes him a dark grin, the expression broad and all-consuming. “What, you don’t like the ink?”

“I’m not a big fan of dolphins,” Connor hisses back.

Irritated, Roland snaps his jaws, teeth crashing together just a hair’s breadth from the tip of Connor’s nose. He doesn’t flinch, thankfully, but his eyes track the movement nonetheless, which makes Roland’s victorious smile loom again as if he had moved after all.

“See?” Roland says, smooth and slow. “Scared. I see you.”

“You wish,” Connor retorts. “I’d be more scared of a spider.”

“Prove it, then,” Roland tells him. He’s so assured of himself that he even leans back a little, resting casually where he kneels on the cold floor of the basement right in front of Connor. He truly doesn’t believe that Connor could do a damn thing to him that matters.

He’s wrong, though. Connor can. Roland is expecting a fight, or an insult, something he can counter, but that’s the wrong move. Mama may have raised a boy she could give away for forms signed in triplicate but she sure as hell didn’t raise a fool, so Connor knows he must do something terrible, something worse, something to ruin this dark place forever. There’s one last trick up Connor’s sleeve, but it’s the wrong move, it’s the wrong path to start because once he starts going he’ll never stop. He should back off now, but he’s just like Roland in that aspect– could never back down, could never do anything but hurl himself directly into trouble– there is simply no other option– no choice–

Connor’s mouth collides with Roland’s so harshly that their teeth crush together. He has the brief thought that he’d like to do that again, leaving the other boy bloody and bruised, and a sharp spike of something hot but not entirely unpleasant courses through him at the thought. Connor’s hand locks onto Roland’s throat a moment later, fingernails scrabbling for purchase before sliding down to grip the neck of his t-shirt. Maybe he should have gone for the throat first instead of the mouth, but that wasn’t the part that mattered. It was an afterthought. Throttle the boy, but not before you make him yours.

Roland lets out a surprised choke of air, just enough for Connor’s stomach to twist with satisfaction at getting the other hand, before he kisses Connor back with the same force if not more, enough to knock Connor’s head back against the wall. Connor gasps at the impact, giving Roland enough purchase to start pushing him into the ground again. Roland would bury him beneath the earth if he could, Connor thinks. He would erase all evidence that Connor had ever existed. Only Roland would know that he had been there at all.

He’d like that too, Connor thinks with a shiver. Having that power over Connor. Owning him in every way that matters. Absolutely evil, but Connor is worse, because he has seen all of that and liked it. And allowed it to continue. And started it first.

Roland pulls away just a little, leaving both of them panting for breath. He kneels over Connor like a wild animal, and there’s a spark of something new in his eyes. It might be respect. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Lassiter.”

“You don’t know anything,” Connor growls, and forces them back together. One of his hands is bunched in the material of Roland’s shirt, the other reaching up past the throat to knot in Roland’s dark hair. He’s seen it from across the basement for days now, how it seemed to suck in all the light that touched it. He’s wanted to touch it, too, for a very long time. Connor tugs on the roots, jerking Roland’s head back, exposing the veins pulsing against the skin. If he only had a blade– but he is the blade now, he is the weapon. Connor could kill him right now, and he wouldn’t even need a knife.

The thought shocks him out of whatever trance made him do this. Connor pushes him away, suffering for purchase against the dirty floor until he picks himself up and flings himself across the basement, ending up where Roland had been just minutes before. They stare at each other again, so far from where they started, but somehow exactly in the same position. Two lions stuck in a cage, pacing, circling, until one lunges to draw blood and they engage once more.

“This won’t happen again,” Connor informs him. Even he doesn’t believe it.

Roland laughs pityingly. “You tell yourself that. We’ve got plenty of time before they let us out. You’ll get bored. Face it, Connor. You can never let me go.”

Connor shakes his head resolutely. This was a breach of judgment, a one-time slip. A mistake that won’t repeat. But he can still taste Roland’s breath on his tongue, and he can see where Roland’s dark hair is mussed from his hands, and Connor knows– he knows that he is wrong. That it will happen again. And he will start it, or Roland will, or both of them. It won’t matter. In the dark of the basement, where no one knows they’re alive, they can do whatever they want. This is what Connor wants. He's in a position to take it, so he will, again and again until they pull him out.

Then, who cares. He doesn’t have to think about that. He doesn’t have to think at all.

Roland grins. He’s won this round. Connor will have to beat him at something else, find a way to expose his throat to the cold, violent air or otherwise make him weak. He still has two hands and a pulse. He’ll find a way to get back on top.

Until then, Connor doesn’t have to remember a thing. The darkness swallows everything anyway. No point in looking.

a/n: for u babe @nealshustermanbrainrot

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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justagirlinafandomworld · 2 years

Text

Title: On the Outside

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (Y/N)

Word Count: 2195

Summary: To get Dean to say yes to Michael, they sent him to the Endverse. And when that didn’t work, they turned to you.

Warnings: Time travel, time jumps, ANGST. Language. Endverse!Dean.

Bingo Squares Filled: @howbadcanitbebingo – which character is speaking?

Writing Challenge Prompts: “And maybe it'll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together we loved a lifetime's worth.” (The Terminator) & Supernatural Season 5 Episode The End for @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior-warrior ‘s 500 Follower Celebration. “It must be nice to love someone who puts you first.” For @negans-lucille-tblr ‘s N-L-Threenager Writing Challenge.

A/N: This is one of those stories where, while it was all very clear in my head, I could not get it down into words. Then life happened, I had a break down and now bon appétit. Bee, I do apologize, I tried very hard to get this down to an even 2k. The characters just weren’t having it.

Dividers provided by @talesmaniac89

2014. Endverse.

Fire lit up the darkness in small explosions. A live inferno that devoured everything in sight. Heat licked at your fingertips through the linked fence, smoke splashed your cheeks and watered your eyes.

Dean had failed.

And the demons celebrated.

Three Days Earlier.

Chuck hurried up to you, his clipboard in hand and a string of worries on the tip of his tongue.

The last mission’s duffle was still slung across your shoulders, the rifle at your back, and the blood of a comrade still splattered across the front of your jacket. You sidestepped the prophet, fully intent on reaching your cabin and decompressing before hearing more bad news.

“…and you know how Cas is. By the way, Dean wants you on tomorrow’s caravan to the second camp. They’re going over their supplies now, which isn’t a lot, but they plan to head out at dawn.”

You stopped in the middle of the dirt path so suddenly that Chuck narrowly avoided walking into you.

Reading the confusion on your face, Chuck backtracked as if suddenly realizing that you were returning from a week-long mission.

“Right, so the plan is to help reinforce a fledgling camp on the other side of the state. We discovered them on the radio four days ago and Dean thinks,” he didn’t get to finish his thought as you unceremoniously shoved your duffel into his arms and started to take off in the direction of Dean’s cabin. “So, we’ll talk later?”

“Oh, you’re back,” Risa drawled. She stood outside the door to Dean’s cabin, arms crossed, and a foot kicked back to rest against the wall. Her mood seemed to match your own, which was fine, it was hard to find any sane person who wasn’t even a little bit irritable these days. But you didn’t appreciate the welcome.

“Is he in?” You asked.

“That depends…”

In no mood to play games, you pushed through to the door, ignoring her heated “hey!” and letting it swing wide on it’s hinges to slam into the wall behind it before stepping inside.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” you seethed.

Dean stood from the table, turning to you with an expression that was less than pleased. And though it was twisted, it felt good to know that you could still evoke an emotion out of him, even if that emotion was annoyance.

“Y/N?”

At the second voice, you tore your eyes away from Dean to the second person seated at the table behind him. In the next breath, you reached for the rifle at your back, but Dean had already braced himself against you, a hand on yours, staying the weapon.

The world seemed to be crashing around your ears as you kept a hard gaze on the person at the table, not really hearing Dean at your ear until he called your name.

“I checked, okay? He’s good. He’s…me.”

Holding your breath, you pulled your gaze back to Dean’s, violating every instinct that shouted against it. His expression was grim, but he stared deeply into your eyes, willing you to believe him.

It was the seated man’s slow, uncertain wave of the hand and awkward smile that had you slowly exhaling. Because you could see that it was him. Dean, before the end of the world.

“What are you doing here?” You asked while stepping away from Dean, your hand sliding out from under his. And if his jaw tightened in response, you ignored it.

“Risa, will you…” Dean trailed off, but the order was clear. With a stiff lip, she pulled the door back shut, obediently waiting outside for further orders.

The Dean at the table looked at the one behind you, as if waiting for his permission to speak.

“Angels,” the Dean behind you said. “From his time, not ours. He’s here to learn a lesson.”

The Dean at the table shrugged as if that were the gist of it. But you could feel that there was something they were holding back. And that reeked of your present-day Dean.

“And you’re going to teach him, are you?” You turned back to him, still nonsensically itching for a fight.

Sensing this, Dean refrained from answering. But the confusion as to why you persisted was visible on his face.

“Do you two need a moment? I can step outside.”

“No,” Dean answered without looking away from you. “I’m not teaching him anything. He’s going to see for himself.”

There was your opening.

“What is he going to see?”

The silence became deafening as suddenly your Dean refused to speak. When you stepped back to have both in your sight, the contrast was utterly jarring. You had been there, before the apocalypse, had been apart of the inner circle to defeat the devil. You were there when everything went wrong and helplessly watched as Dean became the jagged shell of who he used to be. After so many losses, you were on the outside now. And you didn’t know how to get back in. If there was anything to get back into.

The fire in your voice faded as you pushed, “What’s the deal with the second camp? Is that a real mission or are you purposefully sending me away so that I’m not apart of whatever this is?”

“It’s real and I need you on it.” His tone had hardened into that veteran soldier giving orders. “Now will you please go help them and we will talk about this later.”

Grinding your teeth, you couldn’t help the instinct to adhere to his command. He wasn’t about to budge and you were losing energy trying. Without a word, you stalked back out of the cabin, slamming the door behind you for good measure. A snark comment from Risa on the porch had you halting on the stairs.

“What did you say?”

She pushed off from the wall, staring down at you with all the anger and hurt that you felt.

“I said it must be nice. To love someone who puts you first. It’s an evacuation.”

You stared at her, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Look at the roster if you don’t believe me. He’s getting everyone out. Including you.”

The camp continued to move around you as you digested her meaning until realization dawned, quickly followed by disbelief.

“He found it.”

“He sure did.”

“And you’re going with him tomorrow.”

“Like a sheep to the slaughter.”

And somehow, that hurt more. You kept from looking back at the cabin and continued down the steps. It didn’t take long for Chuck to find you again, still carrying your duffel bag and talking in a fluster, before ushering you towards the people you would be escorting to the second camp. And damn it, but Risa was right. Women, children, and the wounded were slated for the caravan.

An evacuation.

You didn’t get back to your cabin until nightfall. Weighted by exhaustion both physically and mentally, you barely reacted when you walked in to find a visitor seated on your bed.

“I’m exhausted, Dean. Is this you or past you?”

“I’m offended you have to ask.”

Finally shrugging out of your bloodied jacket, you threw it down onto the nearest surface and rested your hands on your hips.

“Well, right now, I’m offended by your face.”

And damn him, that your response only made him smile. It wasn’t the full bloom smile that you had fallen in love with all those years ago, but it was the closest he had come to in a long time.

“I thought you liked my face.”

“Not right now.”

He shut his eyes and sighed, as if that exchange alone caused him a great effort. “Will you come here?” He pat the bedspread beside him.

In defiance, you pulled a wobbly chair from the wall, dragged it two feet from the bed and fell into it with crossed arms. He watched you with pursed lips but said nothing on it.

“You have questions, so let’s hear it.”

“Where’s the other Dean?”

His mouth dropping open was the only sign that you had caught him off guard. Licking his lips he cocked his head to the side and tried to play it off.

“He’s safe.”

You raised your eyebrows and remained silent.

“Is this really what you want to talk about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you found Lucifer’s hideout?”

“I was a little preoccupied…”

“Not too preoccupied to make arrangements to send me away.”

“That…” and for a moment he appeared to struggle to find his next words. “…was a calculated decision.”

“Based on what?"

“I was trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” he scoffed at that, but you kept going. “I need you to let me in. Were you really just going to send me away with no word of warning? Without so much as a goodbye?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if I die, I need to know that you’re nowhere near him. I need to know that you’re far away and safe. I,” he took a deep breath. “I need to know that he won’t touch you. And this…”

His eyes went far away, lost in his plans for what was to come. But you leaned forward in your seat, searching for his gaze, to bring him back and let him know that you weren’t buying it.

“This doesn’t ensure that. You dying, alone doesn’t protect me, Dean.” His eyes narrowed and lifted as if he were about to argue. But he didn’t. Because your face gave it away before your words. “All it’s going to do is break my fucking heart.”

Tears trailed down your cheeks and your hands gripped your arms tighter because you wanted so badly to still be mad at him. To kick, yell, and scream at him that this was the wrong choice. He was making the wrong choice.

He moved forward, helped you to stand then encircled you in his arms, pressed your head into his chest. Your body trembled with every breath as you tried to keep the tide at bay.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

He pressed you tighter against him.

He didn’t answer.

But that was answer enough.

He was done fighting. You had lost him the second Sam said yes.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, thumbs rubbing into his back.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He asked, with a slight tremor in his timbre.

You held him tighter, breathed him in and responded in the lightest voice you could muster: “I’m offended you have to ask.”

Three Years Later.

The burning ache around your wrists dulled as she concluded her story.

Because that’s all it could really be, right? A story? Within this maddening dream?

The sadness that pulled at her face, weighted her shoulders, and glistened her eyes argued otherwise.

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

A deep breath as she continued to stare into the past.

“After my convoy reached the other camp…” she trailed off, interrupted by your clanging the handcuffs against the radiator.

“Answer me,” you growled, like a caged animal.

“I am,” she returned coldly. “Once the convoy reached the other camp, I headed back to Camp Chitaqua on my own. But there was no one left. Dean failed and the demons had celebrated.

“And now you’re here. Which makes me think the angels still haven’t persuaded Dean to say yes.”

“He won’t.”

She looked at you, firmly back in the present and seemed for a moment to marvel. All the fire within you, the aggressive certainty in a man you believed in and trusted, were flames that had extinguished within herself the day Dean died.

“No,” she said. “Of course, he won’t.”

She stood from her chair and set to releasing your wrists from the cuffs. Once you were free though, you found you could not move. You watched, transfixed as she contemplated her next words.

“Maybe…maybe it’ll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together,” she paused at the sudden vulnerable expression on your face and smiled as if sharing a secret. “We loved a lifetime’s worth.”

A bright light shone through the cabin windows then, blinding you even as you raised your hands to cover your eyes.

“Knew they would come looking for you,” she said from above.

“What’s going on?”

“If you still think this is a dream, then we are more delusional than we think we are. The angels are looking for you. I kind of stole you, did I mention?”

You pushed yourself to your feet but were only successful in backing yourself into a corner.

Then you heard a shotgun being cocked and her calling out from a much farther distance, “Don’t stop fighting for him. Don’t you stop fighting for him ever.”

When finally the light disappeared, you slowly dropped your hands and peered into the darkness. You were back in the cheap motel room that you had passed out in the night before.

The red digits of the alarm clock glowed up at you from the nightstand.

Three thirty-three in the morning.

The year: 2009.

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dnangelic · 4 months

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to make things absolutely clear on the ooc end of things and how -i-, as a mun, write things for rp, dark is a charmer and can very often lead people on with the schmoozy way he speaks, but he never actually gets serious. even if he genuinely cares for or wants to compliment others, he will still always, always ditch and bail at the last minute if things start getting closer to true romance. he's not allowed to be (which is also to say, he won't allow himself to ever truly be) involved romantically, this is his good host mentality; he wants others to feel good through his words and charisma, but that's about it. anybody who wants to seriously romantically ship with me has to have their muse go through daisuke first. if you can't go through daisuke it's not going to work. this goes for things like unacceptable age gaps and also the fact dark and daisuke are sharing a body, thus culminating into daisuke's big secret.

that said, daisuke and dark's emotions/perceptions of others are shared, with dark heavily dependent on daisuke's emotions, so whoever daisuke falls in love with, dark will inevitably fall in love with too; whoever daisuke dislikes or hates, dark will likewise feel utterly nothing but derisive contempt for. nobody, not even dark and daisuke themselves, can help it, nor are they even entirely cognizant of the fact. muses that want to pine or chase after dark but don't care for daisuke like risa are fine to me, just again, mind any age gap and don't be weird about a 15 yr old if your muse isn't around there, and do not ever expect dark to actually get with your muse. muses that want something like riku's circumstances, where x muse loves daisuke but hates dark, are fine to me too. i'm perfectly fine with any kind of complexity/one-sidedness in a romantic ship as long as the other mun understands more or less how dark and daisuke work both out of and in tandem with each other. 'but its complicatedddd' either u accept ur spontaneous dark/dai polyam r/s or u shrivel and wither. choose

#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT.#JKKJLKJDLKF

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julysn · 4 months

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scary? my god, you’re divine!

ship: connor lassiter x reader

includes: pre-unwholly post-unwind, friends to lovers, pov second person, it’s CORNY. it’s HORRENDOUS. but i’m starving. so here u go fuckers. not beta’d

song rec: diet mountain dew (demo) - lana del rey

wc: 1150

a/n: yeah he might be slightly ooc dunno who cares i felt motivated to write be proud 😔

a lil rushed bc all of my writing tends to be.. was listening to the dt mt dew demo and felt inspired so here we go

also its not mentioned but connor didnt date risa in my fic. because I SAID SO

It was a quiet yet peaceful evening in the deserts of Southwest Arizona, the blazing heat contrasting the softly-lit moon raised high in the glittery night sky.

Life had truly taken a wild turn for you—in just under a year, you were no longer under your parents’ watchful eyes, checking for deceit and harm, but you had landed up in an isolated airplane graveyard with a new life ahead of you (mainly because your parents wanted to toss you away once they had signed the unwind order).

Throughout your rough and stressful escape from the juvey-cops, you also had your best friend, Connor Lassiter.

From the moment you met, the connection between you both was like lightning. He became your closest friend; your partner in crime. He was one of the only people you felt like you could truly be yourself with, and your walls of facade would immediately crumble once he was around.

As time passed, you witnessed Connor's transformation firsthand—his short temper and impulsiveness guided into rationality and intelligence. Though others saw him as merely the legend of the 'Akron AWOL,' you knew the true Connor. He wasn’t like the rumors, no, he was different. He was special.

Throughout the chaos and drama, you stood by his side, no matter what. He was your light in the darkness, the blossoming flower to your stem. You could never admit it to him, but your heart knew; he meant everything to you.

You were with him every second of the journey, no matter how tough and complicated it was. He meant the world to you, even if he was unaware of how you felt.

Completely lost in thought, you were sitting on the grass near the planes, stargazing and letting the peaceful silence fill your ears when a familiar pair of footsteps approached. You yawned and looked up, seeing Connor sit beside you and tilt his head upwards to look at the sky.

The both of you sat in peaceful silence, just watching the stars glimmer in the dark sky, until Connor spoke his thoughts.

“Do I look scary?”

His question caught you completely off guard. Scary? Why would he ask that? You glanced over and scanned his appearance, and oh god.

Connor Lassiter was absolutely perfect.

His soft, caramel-tinted skin looked beautiful underneath the moonlight, and you saw freckles scattered across his bare arms and cheeks like the stars blanketing the night sky. He had deep, tired brown eyes that made him look as attractive as ever. His tousled and messy curls sat prettily on his head, the tangled and sleepy mess more adorable than you’d like to admit. You could see why all of the other ‘whollies’ (as Hayden would call them) would throw themselves at Connor’s feet, because you would too. You’d do anything for him.

And the best part? His ass was fat. Massive. Colossal. Astronomically huge.

I’m gonna forget I even thought about that last part, you mused as you looked back up at the stars and let a soft sigh escape your lips, the warm breeze tickling your cheeks. “You look fine. Why?”

“I feel like people are scared of me.” Connor confided, leaning back on his hands as his eyes wandered across the clear night sky. “Not just because I'm the Akron AWOL, but.. I think it’s because I have all of these scars from the explosion.”

“You don’t look scary to me.” You shrugged, looking up at him and catching his gaze before the both of you looked away and back up to the star-filled canvas in front of you. You felt his hand come down to absentmindedly play with your hair, and your breath hitched. You weren’t.. falling in love, right?

Right?

“I mean, you’ve seen the way people look at me.” Connor sighed gently, his other hand coming up to ruffle his curls. As his fingers ran through his hair, you noticed the light scarring around his cheeks and temple, and it made him look more adorable.

He wasn’t frightening in your eyes, no, he looked divine. But he didn’t know that yet.

“From what I’ve seen, the kids here worship you.” You shrugged once again, yawning and stretching your arms out. The peaceful quiet of the night was almost eerie, and you shook away the thoughts of potentially getting caught. It wouldn’t happen. Not now, at least.

“I know, but some of them look at me like I’d shoot them with a tranq too.” Connor muttered, his other hand coming down to play with your hair too. He was no longer admiring the night sky or gazing at the glimmering stars, his attention was purely on you now. You felt your heart flutter as you felt those cold, calloused fingers stroke your hair with a gentleness you've never felt before.

“Seriously? You don’t look that scary.” You chuckled quietly, leaning your head into his hands as your eyes met his. You noticed a spark of something unfamiliar in his star-filled gaze, and you had to fight the urge to not pull him into a tight hug. There’s something special about him. You just didn’t know what.

“.. You know, I had a dream about you last night.” Connor blurted out absentmindedly, his rosy cheeks flaring up as his eyes darted away from you. You looked up at him in shock, eyes widening as your vision laid upon his features. His expression was no longer relaxed, it was more nervous and embarrassed. You had never seen him like this before, and it was quite endearing to see.

“Really?” You asked, your smile almost giddy as you slowly sat up from the grass, propping your hands behind you and leaning back slightly. You felt Connor’s smooth, cold hands continue to run through and play with your locs, and it was a comforting sensation. You were feeling head over heels, and there was a flame of hope burning within you that he would reciprocate.

“No, I-” Connor stammered out, avoiding your eyes. “Alright, fine. I think I’ve fallen for you.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, unaware of what to do or say. The situation was extremely delicate and fragile, and you were worried you’d ruin everything by letting your thoughts escape your lips.

So, instead, you gently raised a hand to cup his cheek, as his hand laid on the back of your neck, and you both leaned in to close the distance between your lips. The kiss was soft and gentle, nothing too passionate as having sex in an airplane in the middle of a southwestern Arizona desert didn’t sound too enticing.

He pulled away first with a grin, his smile melting your heart as his hands gripped your shoulders gently. “Does that mean you love me back?”

“No.” You replied, although the bright smile and the pure happiness in your eyes said otherwise.

#julysn #julia’s fics .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚#i loev him #hes so silly #connor lassiter #connor lassiter x reader #unwind dystology #unwind #unwind fanfic #unwind fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #friends to lovers

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edelorion · 9 months

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pso2 chess headcanons because i felt like it!!

this will contain a bit of spoilers so do finish episode 6 maybe -w-

okay so.

Afin: he's a beginner. he knows how the horse moves but if you throw an en passant on him he'll be very confused. leaves pawns and pieces hanging constantly. but he's a good sport about it! "Aw crikey, didn't see that one! Good game, mate!"

Matoi: okay so as klariskrays 2 she never had the time to play and even now after the defeat of the primordial darkness she never really has an interest in chess. however, she's not bad at it. her playstyle is very defensive and while necessary sacrifices have to be made sometimes if she can avert the taking of a piece or a pawn on her sideshe usually does.

Quna: like matoi, as zelsius quna AND an idol she never had the time to play but after the defeat of tpd i think she's probably taken it up as a hobby. and just like her former assignment as zelsius she's completely unassuming until she suddenly ICBMs your queen and there's nothing you can do about it.

Casra: okay he's actually taken the time to learn how to play chess. and he's good at it. he could win against anyone in the Oracle fleet with a bit of effort bar from anyone whose name starts with x. he's fancy and unconventional to stump players whenever he knows they can't handle it, but he's very defensive and by the book whenever he's playing against an actual competent opponent. CAN'T resist an en passant.

Zig: really good. picked up chess in his downtime. can hold a candle against casra. his philosophy while playing is that diamonds are formed under extreme heat and pressure and as such he's super offensive in his play. he breaks you down, so you can build yourself up. and if he finds the opponent survived his trial he's okay with... letting them win a bit. as a treat. especially does this with matoi. he's really good at blitz chess in particular.

Io: best girl BEST GIRL how does she perform?? pretty alright! but she breaks down easily whenever things don't go as she planned. she's very bold in her plays but whenever she's threatened she's internally screaming. probably taunts a little -w-

Pietro: failboy. does the bongcloud unironically because he genuinely doesn't know it's a bad opening. anytime he plays it's like a trainwreck that you can't look away from

Zeno: not that great. tried picking up chess after the defeat of tpd but never got the hang of it. at most he plays a casual match against echo or matoi but he's not that great.

Echo: comeback queen. she knows the openings, but her midgame is a little weak, however she's good at persisting after pieces are lost. probably won a few times against io after io took her queen and was SO assured of her victory

Risa and Hariette: do i even need to say it. risa would rather be shooting things than be playing chess but every game is HELLISH NIGHTMARE. she's more offensive than Zig and plays EXPLICITLY to see the doom in people's eyes as she trumps them at every aspect. and hariette? she knows this. and she helps. whenever hariette's in full control though she plays a good, clean, and strategic game on her own, and her decisionmaking skills really shine through. xiao's pleasantly surprised to see either of them play like this.

Pati: does not care for chess. but every time someone else plays she commentates and makes up random names for the attacks and gambits and defenses like "The Tyrell Defense, Rico Variation" and "The Flowen Gambit" to make it seem more exciting to people and to make herself seem smart until Tia calls her out on the nonsense.

Tia: actually knows alot of chess theory, but has very little practice. a pretty good commentator with quite a bit of insight however. can't help but backseat play a little though... until pati starts shouting about a "Kireek Method Attack" or something like that.

Melrandia: actually learnt chess from melfonseana, her sister, who probably won an arks chess championship one time. as for melrandia herself, she's also rather good but kinda shy about it. focuses alot on defense, and doesn't do anything fancy bar for a scholar's mate sometimes since that's the first thing melfonseana taught her. she pulled it against io once and she made her cry

Maria: she's pretty good. as non-CAST she picked it up as pastime whenever she's not busy, but nowadays she has little time for it. but when she plays, she's a menace. she especially strives in high-speed, high-stakes scenarios like blitz or bullet chess. she knows most of the good openings and knows how to make the best of them and carries that momentum all the way to endgame.

Regius: bold and brash when he first picked it up, but has since quenched it, and now as a CAST, he's just pretty good... but does like doing the more unconventional tactics sometimes. but against maria, he's super serious. he'll beat her one day.

Xion: beyond stockfish. any move she plays is the best in its situation. she has never lost a game. she will never lose a game. she knows everything about her opponent and WILL play the perfect game each and every time. she is a menace. cold. calculated. an utter destroyer. may the akashic records have mercy on your soul, since its librarian has none to spare ゴゴゴゴ

Xiao: almost on the same level as xion. but he's much less player as he is teacher. each game he plays he invites the opponent to improve. he lets them figure out their flaws, lets them improve on them, and then decimates them. often leads on casra into thinking he's winning against him before pulling the rug right under him

Xiera: cheater. she's decent but any time she's losing she taps into xiao and uses his processing power to completely decimate her opponent. she thinks she's sneaky about it but she really isn't. it's gotten so bad that xiao personally comes down to shame xiera each time she does this.

main character: lemme paint you a picture for this.

Xiao: "Oof, you lost a piece there..." MC: "..." Xiao: "Wait, it's the Timestream-- Stop! How far back are you trying to go?!" <AP 2XX, 10 seconds before> MC: "...So I castle instead." Xiao: "hhhh you cheater."

if any of you have more chess HCs esp. for characters i've missed (pso2 or ngs) please reblog and share them!!

#pso2 #phantasy star online 2

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niwatari-rei · 3 months

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Whumptober 2023 Prompts Masterlist

Emikosuke Prompt 29: "What happened to me?"

Elliot Prompt 24: “I thought they were with you.”

Elliot & Second Hand of time Prompt 22: "Watch out!"

Kyle Endoyle Prompt 25: "They're not breathing!"

Hiwatari Satoshi & Krad Prompt 8: "It's all for nothing."

Hiwatari Satoshi & Sekimoto Masahiro Prompt 21: “Don’t move.”

KeiRio Prompt 15: "I'm fine" Prompt 31: Setbacks

KosuKei Prompt 4: "You in there?" Prompt 26: “You look awful.” Prompt 27: "Let me see." Prompt 28: “You’ll have to go through me.” Prompt 30: "Not much longer."

Niwa Daisuke & Defective/Baku Prompt 9: "You're a liar."

Niwa Daisuke, Harada Risa, Insomnia & Sekimoto Masahiro Prompt 11: "No one will find you."

Niwa Daisuke, Dark Mousy & Hiwatari Satoshi Prompt 6: "It should have been me." Niwa Daisuke & Dark Mousy Prompt 12: "I'm up, I'm up."

Niwa Daisuke, Niwa Emiko & Niwa Kosuke Prompt 20: "You will regret touching them."

Niwa Daisuke & Saehara Takeshi Prompt 19: “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

Niwa Daisuke, Saehara Takeshi, & Sekimoto Masahiro Prompt 1: "How many fingers am I holding up?" Prompt 17: “Leave me alone.”

Qualia & Hikari ancestor Prompt 18: Tortured for information

Quarantine Prompt 14: "Just hold on."

Saehara Takeshi & Inspector Saehara Prompt 10: "You said you'd never leave."

Saehara Takeshi x Sekimoto Masahiro Prompt 5: Pinned down

Sekimoto Masahiro Prompt 2: Thermometer Prompt 7: "Can you hear me?" Prompt 23: "Who's there?"

Towa no Shirube & Argentine Prompt 13: "I don't feel so good." Yuukami Prompt 3: Solitary confinement Prompt 16: "Don't go where I can't follow."

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trolagygirl2022 · 27 days

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Hey hey Mimi! Here for the game ^^

Physical traits of you fs

The Devil H, Six of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, Eight of Cups H, Two of Pentacles, Strength R, Nine of Pentacles

I feel like your fs will have some foreign looks. They might have another race than you. I do think their are foreign, but they prolly live in the same country as you (idc but I think you're from canada; I think you once said it yourself). They probably have brown or dark hair. Their height is average to tall. I also think they look clean and always nice. They might care about their looks a lot and actually put a lot of effort into looking good. They are definitely pretty! Like I see you pulling someone who is just very nice looking, very pretty; might have a model like face. But I have o add they might have a resting bitch face. Their body is average to thin. They might have like a good built body and actually work out. I see a good abdomen. Like biceps, abs, a well trained chest. They might have a fair skin tone, but I think they are most likely tanned. And you might actually think they aren't pretty at first. They are attractive, but I think you'll be like "yeah they are pretty, but there isn't something special about them." I also see them wearing darker clothes. They have that rich vibe to themselves, but they might also enjoy casual clothes or the style grunge

Their aura/vibe

Four of Cups R, Seven of Pentacles R, The Sun, The Star, Ace of Pentacles, The Emperor R, Ten of Cups

They seem to be pretty spontaneous and open for a lot of things. I see them as an extrovert, a social butterfly. Laughing, gigling, and enjoying is something they do on the daily. They are really nice and open. They also seem to be someone with feminine energy. They are down to earth and interested in the world. They are caring when it comes to the people around them. I also think they are really hardworking and hard on themselfe. They don't care if they are able to please others with their work as they find it really important to meet their standards, and they want to be proud of their work. Oh and tbh the vibe I'm getting is that they are like 1 to 3 years older than you but they are on the same maturity level as you

How others see ur fs

King of Pentacles R, Ten of Wands, Page of Pentacles, The Hanged Man R, Seven of Wands, The Magician R

People around them think they are pretty young when it comes to their mentality. Like kinda immature. Also, a lot think that they aren't successful at what they do. They lack skill, and it's noticeable. Yet everyone knows how hard they are trying to manage everything well... even though things might be stagnant from time to time. They are really working on things they aren't satisfied with. Many might also think they are someone who fight for themselfe and that stand up for themselfe. I also get the feeling that a lot think that they don't go with the flow. Most of the time, they are a follower, but as they mature, they actually find more happiness in other things. Things that not everyone likes. They are pretty unique and do things that not everyone does.

Hope you like it 🩷🩷🩷

X Risa

I am Canadian, I would really like someone that knows Canadian culture because we can really bond! They're really my type lol.

Physical Appearance: The Hanged Man, Knight of Cups, The Wheel of Fortune, 2 of Pentacles.

The moment WoF popped out I got "genetic lottery" so I see this person being very naturally good looking. Like they don't need to do lots of stuff to look good. If they're mixed then they're an even mix between two races. If not then they really resemble both of their parents. Oh major thing here that I see is them being pretty jacked and they have a nice body. If they're a guy, I see them having broad shoulders, big biceps and being pretty strong. If they're a girl then I see them being veeryyy curvy. I see something with their hair, I feel like it's pretty bouncy and big. This person is probably on the tanner side as well. They have really good facial harmony and overall have a nice face to look at. Back to the skin, the scent of caramel came to mind so I see them having a similar skin tone to that. Their features can be a bit more "feminine" though, like they have this one trait that softens their face (it'll be cute though!). They could possibly have blue eyes or some lighter colour. Their energy is a bit youthful so they might be younger than you. Egypt could be relevant to them or their identity.

Their aura/vibe: The Emperor, 4 of Cups, The World, The Emperor, 7 of Wands rev, King of Wands rev.

Your future spouse seemed pretty stubborn and hesitant to answer my questions. So I see them probably going through some tough path at the moment. So back to their aura, The Emperor really spoke to me. I was getting a bit of a "bossy" vibe? It's giving someone that can be pretty harsh. I see them coming off as quite difficult? They're pretty stubborn and they like to sit back. I wouldn't be surprised if they have a major fire stellium (specifically aries and sagittarius). I see them as not being as mature at the moment. They can come off as pretty domineering too, they seem to enjoy giving out orders and can have a sharp tongue. This is someone that seems to prioritize themselves, it seems to be a coping mechanism so they can be pretty careless and don't prioritize other people's feelings. They can be mean and not be conscious of it. I'm seeing them being in their own mini world so they can be pretty detached.

How others see them: Ace of Cups, 3 of Swords, The Tower, Death.

Ok umm asides from Ace of Cups the energy is very negative 😭. So I see people appreciating their beauty and good looks. It seems like a positive thing people acknowledge about them. I also see them being pretty caring to their loved ones and people they care about. Now, I see a lot of people disliking them and feeling hurt by their actions and such. I see "heartbreaker"? So they're aware of their looks but they don't really care for relationships? I see people also thinking of them as careless and immature. They have a LOT of work to do before you meet them. I'm also thinking about "fire cracker". So they like to speak what they think and don't think about the possible repercussions. People think that they need a complete 360 and they really need to change and mature.

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 4 months

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The Dangers of Hope Ch. 2

Chapter Warnings: Not too much. A mention of recurring nightmares, some talk of fears.

Word Count: 4,240

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Thank you SO much to everyone who was so kind and gave such a lovely reception to the first chapter of the series. I hope you enjoy this new chapter too! ❤️

Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers used here were created by @saradika .

The big, wide log cabin seemed so completely empty after Dean Winchester left, as though his presence alone was what had filled it.

The blue-eyed man - Castiel - ran after him quickly, shouting an order to a guard outside to let no one go in.

So Y/N sat completely still, listening to the muffled sounds of camp life happening on the other side of the pine walls. Her exhausted brain was trying to comprehend what had happened, trying to piece it all together.

The first person she'd encountered had been the woman, Risa. She and another soldier had been guarding the border of the camp when Y/N and Emma finally stumbled out of the forest.

Y/N was fairly certain she would have been shot on site if Emma hadn't been there. Instead, their hesitation gave her the chance to swear up and down that, despite appearances, she wasn't a Croat.

The two soldiers had eye-balled each other and Risa had finally told the other guard to stay at the outpost.

“The Boss is still out on the raid. I'm taking them to Castiel.”

She'd pulled the heavy chains and manacles out of the guard post shack, and brought Y/N, cuffed and bound, to see Castiel. She’d met with him in the big cabin, tying Y/N to the table and then explaining things to him. He'd seemed a bit out of it at first, but then seemed to sober up quickly when Risa explained the situation to him a second time. Then he examined Y/N and made her tell him the story again. His face got progressively more dumbstruck as she spoke.

When he was informed that the Boss was back, he'd told Risa to take Emma away somewhere safe while they all talked.

Now, in the big, lonely cabin Y/N had to shake her head. She’d been so certain, in the end, that she was going to die. But Dean had walked away and left her breathing.

Just another miracle that somehow kept her alive for one more day.

The evening wore on and the light began to disappear, leaving only a dusky blue twilight inside the cabin. She didn't like the night time and the dark. It was a fear that had started with the poltergeist when she was sixteen - when every time she turned off the light and closed her eyes, something evil emerged to cause her pain and terrorize her in the dark.

Before long, the very last of the twilight left the room, and unknown, unkind darkness loomed all around her, and she began to feel the panic rising. But suddenly, just before it could take hold completely, Dean strode through the door, carrying a bright lantern that banished the dark. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to see him in spite of everything.

He moved to stand directly in front of her, almost exactly where he stood when he’d elected not to shoot her. She looked up at him and gave a slight smile, not knowing what else she could do. Then she thought to ask the question foremost on her mind.

“Can I see Emma? I'd like her to know I'm safe.”

“No.” He said, shooting down the request without hesitation. He moved over to a metal folding chair that sat at the end of one of the tables and pointed at it.

“I'm gonna sit right here, all night, not sleeping. And if you so much as twitch? I promise I'll put you down.”

Y/N still couldn't help but appreciate the light he'd brought in for her, and the fact that she was still breathing, so she gave another half smile. “Okey dokey.”

He looked briefly taken aback by her response before his scowl returned. He plunked himself down on the chair and folded his arms across his chest, sitting up ramrod straight. It didn't look very comfortable.

But then, her spot on the hard floor, chained to the table, wasn't all that comfy either. But she decided she was grateful that the length of the chain allowed her to comfortably move her arms around. That was something.

She leaned back against the wide metal leg of the table and tried to relax. But soon her active mind was wandering and she stole a glance at Dean, wondering about how very different he was now. Of course twelve years was a long time in the best of circumstances. Twelve years spent fighting monsters and battling through an apocalypse was bound to change a person.

As she stared at him he turned his head and caught her at it outright. She blushed slightly and decided to cover with a question. “Can I see Emma tomorrow?”

“No.” Dean said before going back to staring at the far wall.

His outright refusal was frustrating. But she worried that arguing with him might be considered “twitching”, so she kept her mouth closed.

The silence stretched out again and made Y/N antsy. She was used to Emma’s little-girl-babbling, her singing, and just her general five-year-old noisiness. The camp was mostly silent on the other side of the wall as well, only the crickets could be heard, playing their creaky songs.

Her eyes once again settled on the only interesting thing in the room, Dean. She tried to be less obvious about staring this time, but realized she’d failed when he spoke harshly without looking in her direction.

“Why are you staring at me?” His voice was full of annoyance.

“I’m not.” She said quickly and unconvincingly.

He finally looked at her and his face was cold and angry. She remembered that he used to have a really bright, beautiful smile.

“Why can’t I see Emma?” She asked, aware she was probably pushing buttons she shouldn't.

Dean ignored her and slowly looked away again. Y/N huffed out an angry puff of air and despite her worries about riling him, decided to argue. “She’s my daughter. I just want to make sure she’s okay, and let her know that I’m okay too.”

He remained silent and Y/N’s voice became desperate. “Please!”

Dean swung his head back to look at her angrily. “Look, I’m probably going to end up shooting you. When that happens, do you want her to have to go through all of it again? Or worse, have her sitting in the room when you turn and I have to take you out?”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, but she shook her head. “No.” She said softly.

Dean lifted his hand and then dropped it, looking away again. “So okay. Then shut up about it.”

Y/N was only a little offended and sighed slowly. After being quiet for a minute she spoke with another frustrated sigh.

“Okay, but do we just have to sit here? This is boring.” Her eyes lit up slightly. “We could play twenty questions.”

Dean looked back at her and his expression was finally registering as something other than angry or blank. He obviously thought she was nuts.

She shrugged. “Just to pass the time.” When he just continued to stare, she shook her head. “No? How ‘bout the alphabet game?”

Dean’s perplexed expression fell back into his usual scowl but Y/N trudged on anyway. “The alphabet game is where you pick a subject, like countries of the world, or 80s action movies or something, and then go back and forth, each having to come up with something that matches the next letter. Like if I said ‘Action Jackson’, you’d say…’Beverly Hills Cop’, then I’d say-”

“Shut. Up.” Dean said succinctly. His mossy green eyes were dark, and quiet frustration oozed out of him.

Y/N slumped back against the table leg. “Sorry. I talk when I'm nervous, and when I’m bored. So, it’s a double whammy here. Hence the motor mouth.”

“Go to sleep.” Dean said in a clipped tone.

“I have too much adrenaline for sleep. I WAS almost shot today, after all.”

Dean’s jaw clenched before he looked away from her again and leaned back slightly in the chair. “If you don’t shut up and go to sleep I may change my mind about the ‘almost’ part.”

Y/N bit her lip trying to suppress a giggle as exhaustion and adrenaline combined with her twisted sense of humor. The result was a loud snort that had Dean once again looking at her like she was nuts.

She smiled at him, wishing he’d smile back, and shared the movie quote that was tickling her funny bone.

“Good night, Westley. Good work, sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

When Dean just stared at her silently, she shook her head. “Princess Bride? No? It’s a classic.”

She swore she saw his hand move towards the holster on his thigh and she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll be quiet now.”

Dean stared a while longer at her and she wondered if he really was contemplating shooting her, until he finally looked away and settled himself more comfortably in the chair.

She sighed. It was gonna be a long night.

***

Y/N was floating down a river in a little canoe. Emma was sitting across from her and talking to her, though she was still a baby.

“We’re lost, Mommy.” She said and Y/N shook her head. She had to keep her baby safe and that included keeping her safe from the truth.

“No we’re okay, baby.” Y/N said as the river got choppy and sharp rocks jutted out, waiting for them around every bend. They careened straight towards one, and Y/N could do nothing to steer the canoe around it; the one oar she had was mostly turning her in circles. They smashed into the rocks and the boat began filling with water.

“Mommy, the water is coming up.” Said Baby Emma. “We’re gonna drown.”

“No, we won’t baby. I won’t let us.”

Y/N tried to scoop the water out with her hands, but it was just too fast. They were sinking. Y/N grabbed for Emma but the baby began to float away.

“Emma!” Y/N called out to her daughter as she floated farther and farther away. But even though she was almost a mile away, Y/N could still hear her little voice right in her ear.

“You lost me, mommy. I can’t come back, I’m lost.”

“No! I didn’t!” Y/N cried out, jerking awake.

The cabin had sunshine pouring in through the east-facing windows. It was morning, she was alive, and so was Emma, she reassured herself, she was just out somewhere in the camp. Her recurring nightmare could be left in the shadows. She took a deep breath and looked over at Dean. He was staring intensely at her. She raised her hands.

“Sorry, not ‘twitching’, just a bad dream.”

Dean still didn’t blink. It was unnerving. “Did you really not sleep at all?” Y/N asked.

“Said I wouldn’t.”

Y/N took in his posture in the chair, straight and alert; he’d barely moved an inch all night. It made her smile and shake her head.

“Huh.”

Dean’s scowl was firmly in place. “What?” He questioned.

Y/N shrugged. “No, nothing. It’s just good to see that things haven’t changed much, after all.”

Dean scoffed. “Woman, everything in the world has changed.” He looked away from her. “And it just keeps changing every day.”

“Maybe,” Y/N conceded. “But yet here you are, all these years later, and you’re still protecting people.”

His head swung back towards her and he seemed offended. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Y/N lifted a manacled wrist and gestured beyond the cabin. “You sat up all night, in what I can only assume to be the world’s most uncomfortable chair, to make sure that everyone in the camp was safe from a potential monster.” She shrugged again. “Because you’re still protecting people.”

“That is not what this is.” Dean said angrily, and Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“No?”

“No.” Dean reiterated. “I am the leader of this camp, and leaders do their own dirty work. If you turn, I’m gonna be the one to shoot you.”

“To save your soldiers having to do it.” Y/N said with a nod.

“No!” Dean barked. It surprised her that he was so angry about what she was saying. It was obvious to her. The hunter she’d known may have turned into a soldier, may have gotten a little harder, but from everything she’d seen, he was still Dean Winchester underneath.

His face was a snarl now, though. “Look, I don’t want you thinking I’m some kind of benevolent nursemaid here.” Dean tried to explain. “Everyone in camp has jobs, has their roles. It’s how we’ve all survived so far. My role is to keep the camp guarded. And I do that so everyone else can perform their roles. It’s simply a matter of survival. If you turn into a Croat and start killing folks, that lowers our numbers, makes us all more vulnerable. That’s all this is. So don’t go thinking I’m some kind of bleeding heart. When the time comes, I will take you down.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Okay.” She said calmly. She didn’t really believe a word of it. But she wouldn’t argue with his need to make her see him as deadly.

“I mean it. I won’t hesitate.” Dean said coldly.

“But,” Y/N looked at him and gave a small smile, “you already did. Hesitate, I mean.”

Dean’s jaw ticked. “Are you taunting me?” His voice was low and very menacing.

Y/N raised her hands, making the chains rattle. “No!” She denied vehemently. “I’m not taunting you, I’m thanking you. That hesitation saved my life.”

Dean’s glare was hot and angry. “Well, like I told you, things change real quick these days, so don’t tempt me.”

He turned away from her again and Y/N lowered her hands. His attitude was not what she’d expected. He honestly seemed insulted that she’d implied that he was a good man who made it his mission to keep people safe.

Silence descended again, until Y/N began shifting around, noisily rattling her chains.

“Stay still.” Dean barked without looking at her.

“I can’t.” Y/N said, slightly embarrassed. “I…I have to…pee.”

Dean turned to look at her for a moment and then shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Y/N’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Ew.” When Dean made no move to rectify the situation, she let out an annoyed huff. “Do you at least have a bucket?”

Dean continued to stare at her for a long time, before calling out. “Johnston!”

A thin man holding a rifle stepped in the door. He’d clearly been standing just outside. “Yes sir?”

“I need your help with the latrine.”

“Sir?” The young man’s face was confused and Y/N snorted out a laugh.

Dean shot her a dirty look. “Shut up.” He ordered. She bit her lip to stifle her smile.

He turned back to the soldier. “With her, Johnston.” He said, pointing at Y/N. “I need help taking her to the latrines. I’m gonna hold her chains, so I need you to keep a gun on her.”

“Oh!” The man was clearly very relieved. “Yes sir.”

Dean stood up and took a key from the inside pocket of his green canvas jacket, bending to unlock the padlock that kept Y/N attached to the table. He pulled her to her feet and she stumbled into him, her legs being slightly wobbly and asleep from her uncomfortable position.

“Sorry.” She said, suddenly shy as she stood so near him. She looked up into his face and was slightly mesmerized by his shining emerald eyes and the dusting of freckles on his cheeks. He really was remarkably beautiful, moreso today than when he’d come to save her all those years ago.

Dean just grunted and stepped back, holding her thick chains in his big hand easily. He took the lead, his long strides forcing her to jog along behind him or risk being dragged all the way.

The camp was still just waking up and she could smell coffee brewing around the campfires where people sat sleepily rubbing their eyes and then popping them wide open as the strange procession passed by them. She tried to smile at them, but the fear on their faces made her remember her bloodshot eyes, and she lowered her head. They probably thought their leader had gone crazy, dragging a Croat around on a leash.

After a few minutes of walking they reached a row of outhouses, plain but well built. Dean pointed to the one on the end of the row and Y/N went in. She stopped just inside the door, looking back at Dean.

“Are you going to let go of the chain?”

“No.”

She frowned and waved her hand at the wooden door. “I can’t close the door if the chain is in the way.”

Dean just shrugged in answer.

Y/N’s face was imploring. “Come on.”

Dean said nothing.

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Well could you at least look the other way?”

“No.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and let out a little growl of frustration. “For pete’s sake, I am in chains, and you’re holding on to them! Where the hell am I gonna go if you look away for a minute?”

Dean stared at her a moment longer before finally, begrudgingly, turning his head.

“Thanks.” Y/N mumbled, trying to pull the door over as far as it would go with the chain stopping it.

When she was finished, she came out with pink cheeks. There was no way both men hadn’t heard her peeing. There were definitely some real indignities involved in people thinking you were a monster.

When they got back to the cabin, Dean was locking Y/N back up to the table, crouched down beside her, when her stomach rumbled from hunger. He ignored it, double checking her manacles before walking out and leaving Johnston watching over her with his rifle.

A few minutes later though, a young girl, probably no more than thirteen, came in with a bowl of oatmeal and some canned oranges. She also had a cold glass of water on the tray and Y/N groaned out loud. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she saw it there. Her groan seemed to startle the girl who was approaching Y/N with considerable trepidation.

Y/N tried smiling again, knowing there was nothing she could do to change her bloodshot eyes, but hoping she could still show kindness in them.

“Hi.” She said softly. “My name is Y/N, what’s yours?”

“Theresa.” The girl said, as she came a little closer. “Boss told mom to make you some breakfast and she sent me to bring it.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you so much. It smells delicious. Tell your mother I said thank you as well.”

Theresa nodded back and finally came up beside her to set the tray within reach on the floor. Then she scuttled away quickly and Y/N tucked into the food. The oatmeal was slightly stale and plain with nothing to go in it, but it was warm and filling and the oranges were sweet and juicy despite their slightly tinny taste. It was the best meal she’d had in well over a week and she was grateful to Dean, the man who didn’t care about anyone, for providing it for her.

She hoped Emma was eating well this morning too, and that she was somehow coping with everything. She closed her eyes and tried to send her daughter strength.

The next few days passed much in the same way. Dean would watch her every night, assuring her that he was watching for any signs she was turning. But a couple days in, she woke up in the night to see his head slumped onto his chest, exhaustion finally winning out over any remaining fears he had of her changing.

On her fifth morning, Dean was locking her back up to the table after a visit to the latrines (during which he now allowed her to take the chain in with her and shut the door), when he swore and grabbed onto her right hand. He pushed the manacle up further on her arm and examined her wrist where it had been rubbed raw on the underside.

“What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

Y/N shrugged. “Didn’t hurt that much, and I figured you wouldn’t care, you know, if you were still figuring on shooting me.” She said with a teasing smile.

Dean gave her his usual dirty look. “Yeah well, I wouldn’t want you to die of sepsis before I get the chance.”

He called to Patrick whose turn it was to guard the cabin for that morning. When the red-headed man stepped inside, Dean told him to bring a first aid kit from the medical tent. When Patrick left, Dean pulled another key from inside his jacket and unlocked the manacle on Y/N’s right hand.

Her arm felt strange without the extra weight of the manacle and chain. Dean checked her other wrist, satisfied that she only had the one wound. When Patrick returned with the first aid kit, Dean began cleaning the raw spot on Y/N’s grubby skin.

As he worked, Theresa came in with Y/N’s breakfast. She pulled up short when she saw Dean there, since he was usually gone by the time she came in. Y/N tried to encourage her forward.

“Thank you, Theresa. Don’t worry, your boss is just fixing up a scratch on my wrist. You can still bring breakfast over.”

The girl hesitated before moving over to Y/N and setting the tray on the floor. “Have you seen Emma today?” Y/N asked.

Most of the time, she tried desperately not to think about what her daughter was going through. If she were to dwell on it too long it would drive her mad. As it was, the nightmare of watching Emma float away from her, was coming two or three times a night now.

The girl looked afraid to answer with Dean there and kept glancing over at him, clearly nervous. “It’s okay.” Y/N reassured her again. “Please, how is she?” Y/N asked, aware that desperation laced her voice.

Theresa looked up at Y/N, her big brown eyes far too wise for a thirteen year old girl.

“Sad.” She said simply before standing and scurrying out of the room.

Y/N felt like a knife was twisting in her gut. She closed her eyes and tried to stop her tears from falling, but simply couldn’t. Two fat tears fell down her cheeks as she stared into her lap. Without saying anything, Dean tied a bandage around her injured wrist before tying more gauze around her uninjured left wrist, protecting it from the rough metal.

He cleaned up the first aid kit and left without a word. It was a few minutes before Y/N realized he hadn’t re-manacled her right wrist.

All that day it felt as though a heavy stone sat in her stomach. She barely touched her breakfast (an egg and some sliced fried potatoes) and didn’t have a bite of lunch. She felt terrible wasting the food and insisted Patrick eat it. It tasted like ash to her and she simply couldn’t swallow. All she could think about was Emma and how she was hurting.

Her ability to compartmentalize her pain and fear was breaking down as worry and heartbreak took over everything.

That evening, Dean showed up earlier than usual. He walked right up to her and, kneeling beside her, unlocked her other manacle so that she was free of the chains at last. She gave him a quizzical look.

“What are you doing?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s been nearly a week that you’ve been here and almost two weeks since you got bit.” His usual scowl was highlighted by confusion in his green gaze. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but it seems increasingly unlikely that you’re gonna start foaming at the mouth any time soon, so…”

He stood up and moved away, nodding to someone outside. Risa stepped through the door and behind her, holding her hand, was Emma.

Y/N gave out a loud cry of surprise, too many emotions flooding her at once to articulate any actual words. She tried to leap to her feet, but ended up stumbling back to her knees as Emma launched herself at her.

“Mommy!” Emma’s tears and sobs soon choked anymore words out of her as well.

Y/N wrapped her daughter up tightly in her arms. “Oh, baby, baby!” She buried her face in her daughter's long hair, squeezing her too hard, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been so terrified she’d never get a chance to hold her again, so she savored the moment briefly before turning her head to where Dean was standing by the door.

Her throat was choked, but she pushed the words out. “Thank you. Thank you.” It was all she could say.

Dean didn’t respond and just walked out the door.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @deangirl96

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

#dean winchester #endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fic series #spn fan fic #endverse

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honeyfance · 2 years

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♡ ❟¿ Por qué no me alejé ?. . . [ Joe Higashi ]

♡ ❟ Temas delicados: ¡!❟ Abuso Sexual / Violación ¡!❟ Obsesión !❟ Otros tipos de maltrato

·˚ Escenas de abuso

·˚Se recomienda discreción al espectador. No busco romantizar ninguna de estas conductas y no deben ser imitadas.

♡ ❟ Quiero ahorrarme problemas, así que es la última advertencia de contenido sensible y de que no debe ser romantizado. Ésto no debe considerarse Dark Romance o cosas así, porqué esto de romántico no tiene nada, así que no pongan cosas que no son.

•°King Of Fighters ( Au )

•° Ship principal: Billy Kane x Joe Higashi ː͡➘₊̣̇ Leve mención: Lilly Kane x Joe Higashi •° Presencia de otros personajes como el Fatal Fury team.

•°

─

───── Vamos Joe, sabes que Billy odia que estés cerca de su hermana, ya déjala en paz, diablos hombre ────── Decía un rubio de gorra con el logo de Fatal Fury mientras caminaba, realmente no entendía porqué su querido amigo seguía tan insistente con estar con la hermosa chica de radiantes cabellos dorados.

Joe siempre había sido un chico muy persistente y realmente terco, siempre estaba determinado a obtener lo que quería, incluso si la respuesta ya había sido un enorme y rotundo no. Pero... Él la amaba, amaba a Lilly, y bueno, estaba dispuesto a conquistar a la pobre muchacha incluso si debía enfrentarse al hermano mayor de la misma.

No le temía. Si, el era algo como un sicario, pero le daba igual, todo fuera en el nombre del amor que le tenía a su hermosa Lilly.

────── Solo ten cuidado, su hermano de verdad no se ve contento contigo, temo que te pueda hacer algo. ────── Dijo el menor de los rubios mientras caminaba junto a sus compañeros, algo le daba mala espina.

────── ¡ Ay vamos ! Confíen en mí, yo sé que falta poco tiempo para que Lilly deje de poner resistencia a este galán, es solo cuestión de tiempo para que me diga lo mucho que me ama, y finalmente nos casaremos y tendremos dos hijos. ────── Dijo el de cabellos castaños seguido de un par de risas por parte del rubio con gorra el cual realmente no pudo aguantar las risas por la poca fe que le tenía a su amigo.

Joe le dió un par de golpes en la cabeza a su compañero, no le gustaba que lo subestimaran, pero vamos, nadie en su sano juicio podría llegar a creer que alguien como él lograría salir con una chica tan hermosa y tierna como la joven Lilly.

Ellos dos se estaban divirtiendo. Pero Andy se mostraba incómodo o al menos algo preocupado, algo le daba un mal presentimiento.

Finalmente llegaron al lugar de la cita, Terry y Andy se marcharon para poder dejar a su amigo a solas con aquella hermosa rubia. Y así fue, estuvieron comiendo en un restaurante y luego Joe la llevó a dar una vuelta por la feria para finalmente terminar por ganarle unos premios que ella ansiaba desde hace un tiempo.

────── Jeje, no pensé que fueras tan divertido Joe, muchas gracias por haberme traído a dar una vuelta a la feria, me la pasé muy bien contigo. ────── Dijo la chica mientras mantenía una sonrisa en su rostro.

────── Sabes que yo te llevaría hasta la luna si así lo deseas. ────── Dijo a manera de coqueteo seguido de un par de risas por parte de la menor la cual se despidió dándole un beso en la mejilla, Joe estaba tan feliz, sentía que su progresó era cada vez mayor...

Oh Joe... ¿ Por qué no te alejaste mientras pudiste ?

Él caminaba a paso normal por aquella oscura calle, llevaba sus manos reposando en sus costados, iba hablando consigo mismo sobre lo feliz que estaba por su exitosa cita. Pasó por un bar, solamente miró por la ventana del mismo y logró ubicar a aquel hombre de cabellos rubios, le miró algo mal, pero simplemente siguió su camino, aunque no tardó en escuchar como él salía de aquel bar, Joe brinco algo asustado por el repentino y fuerte ruido de la puerta azotando.

Simplemente miró a ésa dirección y logró ver a dos rubios... Genial, era Billy y su estúpido amigo Yamazaki, estaban muy borrachos... Bueno, no. Yamazaki estaba totalmente sobrio, y Billy solamente iba algo mareado por tanto alcohol, Billy simplemente le miró sin decir nada, aunque reaccionó con enojo al ver de dónde venía Joe, ¿ acaso venía de su casa ? ¿ Había estado con Lilly ? ¿ Cómo carajo se atrevía a salir con su hermana sin su consentimiento ? Quería golpearlo hasta dejarlo inconsciente.

────── ¡ Hey, imbécil ! ¿ Cómo te atreves a salir con mi hermana cuando yo no estoy ? ────── Llamó Billy totalmente irritado por eso, estaba ligeramente borracho, el ya se enojaba fácil, y con éso sería mucho peor.

────── Lilly ya es grande, no tiene porqué estarte pidiendo permiso, ella misma decidió que quería salir conmigo. ────── Respondió el de cabellos castaños algo molesto por la actitud del portador de aquel palo, estaba listo para cualquier pelea.

Yamazaki solamente miraba y se reía ante la actitud de esos dos imbéciles, sabía que éso terminaría muy mal. ¿ Billy odiar a Joe ? No sabía que el deseo sexual era odio, es más, no sabía que la obsesión era odio, y bueno, obsesión que tenía que ver con el " enamoramiento" O en palabras, la atracción. Porqué eso de enamoramiento no tenía nada. Éso no era amor.

Sabía que Billy se veía fuertemente atraído hacia el de cabellos castaños y bermudas de color rojizo. Aunque claro, está vez Joe iba vestido de manera distinta, después de todo, regresaba de su cita.

Vamos, Yamazaki sabía que la atracción de Billy no era algo sano. Era una obsesión enferma que probablemente terminaría mal.

Nadie más que Billy sabía cuándo empezó ésa extraña obsesión. Él rubio de aquel palo simplemente no quería hablar de eso, lo que si sabían es que él odiaba que Joe estuviera tan concentrado en obtener aquella relación con la joven hermana del rubio. ¿ Por qué seguía tan insistente si claramente ella no lo amaba de ésa manera ? Billy había hablado con su hermana acerca del tema, y solamente había obtenido la respuesta de que ella solamente veía a Joe como uno de sus mejores amigos.

Éso en parte calmaba a Billy, tenía un chance... O éso creyó. Joe nunca dejó de intentar, no importa si el rubio lo amenazó mil veces, Joe simplemente persistía con obtener el corazón de la hermosa rubia.

El rubio estaba tan molesto por eso... Tal vez, lo mejor era darle una lección.

────── Haré que te tragues tus malditas palabras. ────── Le gritó el rubio mientras se colocaba en posición de batalla, Joe y Billy empezaron a pelear, Yamazaki simplemente miraba sin interponerse, eran problemas de ellos dos, no de él. Solamente miró de manera atenta, la pelea terminó en un lugar más alejado de la ciudad, ésto para no ser detenidos por la policía.

Yamazaki simplemente les seguía en caso de que las cosas se pusieran ya muy feas para su compañero, realmente no quería ayudarlo, pero tal vez no tendría de otra. Para su buena o mala fortuna, Billy terminó ganando aquel encuentro donde dejó al pobre Joe totalmente inmóvil y bastante herido, se retorcía por el dolor de las profundas heridas hechas por aquel hombre del pañuelo de tres colores.

────── No puedo creerlo, lograste pelear borracho... ────── Dijo Yamazaki mientras miraba fijamente el cuerpo de aquel joven que solamente respiraba algo agitado en busca de poder restaurar con normalidad su respiración.

────── Cállate... ────── Ordenó el rubio algo molesto mientras respiraba de manera agitada, la cabeza le daba algunas vueltas.

Yamazaki simplemente empezó a reír y miró a todos lados... No había nadie, ése lugar estaba muy solitario y tranquilo, no pasaban ni los coches.

Y si...

────── Bueno, ¿ Y si le enseñas a no molestar de nuevo a tu hermanita ? ────── Interrogó Yamazaki con una sonrisa burlona en su rostro.

Billy le miró confundido sin entender a qué se refería, ¿ Otra golpiza ? Sentía que ya habían sido suficientes golpes. Aunque entendió luego de un momento, solamente abrió sus ojos de par en par, si, quería hacerlo... ¿ Pero en ése momento ? Simplemente se le quedó mirando al joven de cabellos castaños... Tal vez era buena idea la sugerencia de su amigo, a fin de cuentas, si algo no llega a tí... Tienes que forzarlo, ¿ No ?

────── Creó... Tienes razón, Yamazaki, lárgate. ────── Dijo el rubio mientras tomaba algo de aire mientras miraba al de cabellos castaños... Se veía tan lindo de ésa manera, su lindo cuerpo ya algo al descubierto por las roturas de su camisa provocadas por unos ataques en la pelea, su cuerpo bien formado lleno de sudor y sangre por la reciente pelea, sus ojos cerrados con fuerza y su respiración algo acelerada, se veía tan indefenso, tan asustado, tan confundido... Éso le encantaba. Estaba tan vulnerable.

Yamazaki solamente empezó a reír mientras finalmente se retiraba, Joe no estaba entendiendo nada, ¿ Acaso iba a recibir otra golpiza ?... No podía ser peor.

O éso pensó hasta que logró visualizar como el rubio se ponía de rodillas frente a el y colocaba una de sus manos en el elástico de sus jeans, empezó a tirar del mismo hacía abajo con la intención de poder quitarlos. Joe le miró algo confundido pero al mismo tiempo asustado, ¿ Qué planeaba hacerle ? Intentó alejar las manos del rubio sin éxito alguno, no tenía nada de fuerzas.

Billy no dudo ni un momento de lo que haría, ambas manos se posaron en el elástico de los jeans del ojimarron y tiro de aquel elástico con fuerza logrando bajarlos dejando al descubierto no más que sus boxers. Joe abrió sus ojos de par en par.

No, no podía ser... Se supone que él lo odiaba, algo malo debía estar pasando, él no quería. Intentó patear al rubio, pero no tuvo éxito, solo logró más enojó por parte del mismo, pero a Joe le daba igual, podía estar completamente destruido, pero no pensaba dejar que lo tocará de ésa manera, lo único que logró es que el rubio le soltará un fuerte puñetazo en el rostro.

Joe sentía como la sangre comenzaba a salir de su nariz, incluso pudo sentir como aquel líquido carmesí empezaba a mostrar su amargó sabor en su boca, aquel sabor metálico no hizo más que alterarlo más de lo que ya estaba. Estaba desesperado, quería escapar, pero no tenía nada de fuerzas, nada mejoraba, sentía como el ojiazul quitaba aquel sacó de color verde que llevaba y empezaba a romper sin dificultad aquella camisa a rayas que se había llevado para aquella ansiada cita, el de cabellos castaños mantenía el ceño fruncido y una mueca de increíble miedo, de sus ojos empezaban a brotar las lágrimas, no quería, el no quería llorar, pero simplemente le estaban ganando mucho los nervios.

Todo fue peor cuando sintió que el rubio empezó a dejar marcas en su cuello, le dolían bastante, sumemos el dolor que ya tenía por las heridas de la batalla y aparte el dolor de aquellas marcas, para el pobre éso era muy doloroso, lo peor era sentir aquella insoportable impotencia de no poder hacer nada para defenderse.

────── Su-Sueltame imbécil, vo-voy a masacrar te si sigues ────── Amenazó con la esperanza de que el ojiazul se asustara y lo dejara ir, pero simplemente no fue así. Sus amenazas fueron ignoradas y el rubio siguió en su trabajo, siguió bajando hasta llegar a los pezones del chico, el rubio mordió uno con algo de fuerza logrando que el ojimarron soltara un grito de dolor. ¿ Por qué nadie lo ayudaba ?

" Terry, Andy... Por favor, alguien, solo ayúdenme "

Ahí estaba el pobre chico de cabellos castaños, estaba boca abajo con sus caderas siendo sostenidas por el rubio ojiazul el cual embestía bruscamente al pobre muchacho, lágrimas salían de los ojos del de cabellos castaños al mismo tiempo que gemidos de dolor salían de su boca.

Se sentía como un inútil, sentía que nada del entrenamiento que ya había llegado a tener había funcionado, a fin de cuentas, ahora había sido derrotado y estaba siendo abusado, y su entrenamiento simplemente no le había servido para nada más que lograr darle un par de golpes, pero nada más, ni siquiera había logrado darle una gran paliza.

"¿ Qué ganas con hacerme esto ? " " ¿ Es por lo de tu hermana ? " " Nunca pensé que algo como gustar de ella te llevaría a una decisión tan horrible " " ¿ Esté es el precio a pagar por desear ser amado ? "

Ésas y muchas más preguntas pasaban por la mente del chico que sentía que cada vez estaba más cerca del desmayo, el rubio no estaba siendo generoso, lo estaba lastimando y sentía que iba a romperlo en cualquier momento. ¿ Todo por salir con su hermana ? De haber sabido nunca hubiera pasado por ése maldito bar.

Todo empezó a nublarse más y más al sentir que aquel ojiazul había llegado al orgasmo y se había corrido dentro, Joe no pudo evitar soltar un gemido al sentir como la semilla del rubio empezaba a entrar en él. Tanto su respiración como la del rubio eran muy agitadas y parecían estar intentando recuperar una respiración más nivelada.

El rubio simplemente salió del interior del pobre muchacho el cual estaba temblando e intentando aguantar su llanto, pero simplemente no podía, le dolía demasiado, se sentía una deshonra, solamente quería irse a su casa y poder sufrir allí en paz, dónde nadie más pudiera tocarlo ni lastimarlo. El único ruido que se hizo presente en ése momento fue el suave ruido que la noche a veces solía producir, todo lo demás estaba completamente en silencio y solo resonaban aquellas agitadas respiraciones de vez en cuando.

Billy simplemente empezó a subirse nuevamente el boxer y el cierre de su pantalón, arregló nuevamente su pañuelo y acomodó bien sus ropas, miró con disgusto el tembloroso cuerpo del castaño por un momento, ¿ Por qué incluso así tenía que verse tan lindo ? Joder, no podía dejarlo ir así como así, estaba obsesionado con el, le molestaba la idea de que alguien más pudiera tocarlo como el acababa de hacer.

────── Hey, deja de llorar, Marica. ────── Llamó Billy de manera grosera mientras mantenía aquel palo posado en su brazo, simplemente suspiro pesadamente. ────── ¿ Sabés ? No puedo dejar que Lilly se enteré de lo que acaba de pasar, te conozco, eres un imprudente de mierda, y sin importar mis amenazas, irás a decirle... Y realmente no me conviene. ────── Dijo mientras mantenía su penetrante mirada en el chico el cual a duras penas lograba mantener su concentración en el. ────── Así que... ────── Una sonrisa empezó a formarse en el rostro del rubio para finalmente agacharse e intentar cargar al castaño el cual rápidamente intentó alejarse con algo de desesperación, también empezó a gritar y cosas así, éso molestó a Billy, ¿ Qué acaso no fue claro ? Simplemente retiró aquel pañuelo de su cabeza y lo uso para poder cubrir la boca del castaño el cual intentaba gritar para que alguien lo salvase.

Billy no tardó en cargarlo de manera brusca y colocarlo en su hombro como si un saco de patatas de tratará, lágrimas caían de los marrones ojos del pobre chico de cabellos castaños el cual seguía forcejeando en busca de liberarse, ya no quería más, no quería que el rubio lo tocará de nuevo de ésa manera, no quería más, solamente quería volver a su casa, se alejaría que Lilly si él se lo pedía, dejaría de persistir si era necesario, pero solamente quería que lo soltará y lo dejará libre. Joe ya no podía más, estaba tan cansado, tan herido, sus marcas de combate no habían sido curadas ni desinfectadas y corría con el riesgo de que las mismas se infectaran por todo lo que había pasado. Sus piernas no paraban de temblar por lo que el rubio había hecho, aún sentía como aquel líquido tan espeso caía por sus piernas, se daba tanto asco en ése momento, solamente quería bañarse, solamente quería quitarse aquella sensación de suciedad que tenía encima de si mismo, ¿ Era mucho pedir ? Al parecer si.

El ojiazul simplemente se lo llevó como un simple saco de papas. Cualquier otra persona estaría en riesgo de ser descubierta, pero vamos, era Billy Kane, ni en broma podría ser descubierto, después de todo, ya era alguien con experiencia en ésas cosas, ya sabía que hacer para evitar ser descubierto.

Japón, Tokyo. 11:30 AM

────── ¿ Entonces su amigo no aparece desde ayer ? ────── Interrogó uno de los policías mientras anotaba aquella información, quién diría que el campeón de Muay Thai había desaparecido sin dejar rastro alguno.

Terry asintió y siguió dando más descripciones acerca del joven Joe, tenían la esperanza de encontrarlo.

Andy no quería sospechar de Billy, después de todo no era seguro que él le hubiera hecho algo, pero tampoco descartaba ésa idea, aún así, tenía fe en que pronto su amigó iba a aparecer y podrían volver a su antigua paz.

Pero simplemente no fue así.

7 meses pasaron y el pobre joven simplemente no apareció. Terry y Andy estaban muy preocupados por el, no había ni siquiera pistas de cual podría ser su paradero, rezaban todas las noches con la única ilusión de ver nuevamente a su amigo, tal vez no totalmente sano, pero que mínimo apareciera vivo.

Lilly tampoco se quedaba atrás, estaba muy preocupada por no ver a su amigo, siempre intentaba hablar con su hermano mayor sobre el tema, pero el siempre se negaba a hablar sobre éso, y ni siquiera era directo, simplemente buscaba una manera de evadir el tema y así lo hacía. Lilly no quería sospechar de su hermano mayor, quería creer que él no era capaz de hacerle daño a Joe... Sabía que no se llevaban bien, pero dudaba que fuera para tanto.

Mientras tanto, en otro lugar se abría lentamente una puerta dejando entrar la luz del exterior, esto mientras una silueta se reflejaba y entraba en aquel cuarto con una bandeja en sus manos. El chico de cabellos castaños estaba irreconocible, su cabello ya hacía totalmente despeinado, su cuerpo estaba más delgado, en posición fetal, lleno de heridas profundas que solamente habían sido cubiertas por unas vendas, sus manos atadas y su mirada perdida con marcas secas de lágrimas como si hubiera llorado demasiado, tenía un rostro que mostraba no más que pura tristeza y dolor. Lo único que vestía era una gran camisa blanca la cual estaba manchada con sangre, la misma solamente llegaba a la mitad de sus muslos, realmente no servía mucho para protegerle del frío.

El rubio simplemente se colocó al lado de la cama donde estaba recostado el de cabellos castaños, dejó la bandeja en la mesita de noche que estaba ahí y pasó suavemente su mano por el cabello del pobre jovencito.

────── Hey, idiota... ¿ Sigues con vida ? ────── Interrogó el rubio mientras arqueaba una ceja, nunca pensó que Joe podría llegar a estar tan quieto en un lugar.

Joe solamente se quedó totalmente inmóvil, no tenía deseos de verlo. Billy simplemente suspiro algo frustrado, le molestaba que el joven de ojos marrones lo estuviera ignorando.

────── Tsk... Lo siento, tal vez ayer si fuí algo brusco... Pero tu tienes la culpa, te dije que no intentaras escapar, y aún así hiciste lo que se te dió tu puta gana. ────── Dijo mientras miraba de mala gana al delgado jovencito, el mismo solamente se mantenía en total silencio sin decir nada... Dolía, para ése punto prefería morir que seguir con vida y vivir de ésa manera. ────── No te voy a estar rogando, si sigues así, te voy a cortar la lengua para que ahora sí tengas un motivo para no hablar ────── Dijo el rubio de manera brusca mientras salía notablemente molesto, estaba tan enojado que ni siquiera se acordó de que él tenía que darle de comer al chico, de igual manera, no era que Joe quisiera comer, él simplemente deseaba morir, estaba muy herido, no solo físicamente, también estaba muy herido emocionalmente, él no quería seguir de ésa manera, ésa no era vida.

Literalmente su rutina consistía en ser alimentado a la fuerza, golpeado, insultado, humillado, y todo con la simple justificación de que lo estaba haciendo por algo que le haría bien en un futuro. No solo éso, en varios casos también llegaba a ser brutalmente violado con el mero pretexto de que era para enseñarle una lección.

Se sentía una maldita deshonra para los demás peleadores de Muay Thai.

Se odiaba...

Lo odiaba...

Nunca pensó que todo terminaría de ésa manera, y todo por el deseó de algún día obtener una relación con la hermana del rubio.

Joe la pasaba solo muy a menudo, y bueno, su pregunta de siempre era:

" ¿ Por qué no me alejé mientras pude ? "

🤍•° Buenas, esté es el primer One shot que escribo, amó este ship si soy sincera. Pienso subir de más ships de Kof, varios con temática oscura, pero también pienso subir algunos con temática suave, depende. Bueno, esperó no me odien por esto.

#king of fighters #fatal fury #joe higashi #billy kane #terry bogard #andy bogard #KOF #Dark #yaoi smut #Abuso #Temas oscuros #Boys love

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incorrect-dnangel-quotes · 3 years

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Risa: Welcome to the "Fuck Dark Club" where we all gather together to collectively showcase our collective love for Dark the Phantom thief

Krad: *looks from Risa, to Daisuke, to Riku*

Riku: *Hiding face cause she doesn't want to admit to being here by choice*

Krad: I think I may have misunderstood *starts to walk out*

Satoshi: *immediately takes over the body and walks back in to take seat*

Satoshi @ Krad: So help me we're pretending we still misunderstand the point

#submission #dn angel #dark x satoshi #dark x risa #dark x riku #dark x krad #dark x daisuke #dark mousy #dark mousy harem #dn angel incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect dn angel quotes

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archaniel · 3 years

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Just posting here to update any DN Angel fans, especially Dark x Risa fans, out there cause my kokoro can't take this alone...

For people who want to catch up, source is here, do not forget to thank the people who worked hard to translate this, especially Santi7899.

#dnangel #dark x risa #risa and dark #dark mousy #dark and risa #darkrisa #dn angel #spoilers #risa harada #shoujo manga #shoujo #myotp

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pynkhues · 2 years

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Im scrolling through your posts and I saw you talk about penny dreadful and Brio. I can already imagine Beth looking ethereal with her pale skin complexion and Rio’s looming appearance, Rio would definitely nail the vampire look and Beth would dig it so hard and she’d definitely be a sucker for dark arts too lol.

That post about vampire au and the regency era au Brio made me crave for it so bad, if you have any fic recommendations that’s sorta related to that two au, I would gladly die for you

(x x)

Dark arts Brio feels basically canon, haha, so I'm so glad you're as into my musings as I am, haha.

And yeah! There are a few great supernatural AUs and period AUs. Unfortunately, they don't seem to really crossover too much, but we're lucky enough to have some great fics in both genres, so I'll split the recs accordingly!

Vampire AUs

What a Sight to See by s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe. Smart and fun and sexy. stcs always writes great dialogue, but this fic in particular crackles with it. It's totally a bit of dark magic, haha.

Sink a Little Deeper by brokensatellites / @bensonstablers. Vampires and blood play and PWP! Delicious and sexy, but also evocative and sensual in a way that really elevates it overall.

Always and Forever by @xstrawmari. There's such great worldbuilding in this one, and the town of Hell's Hollow just feels so lived in that it all comes to life.

everything you love will burn up in the light by tooshyforthis / @lemoncupcake. Beth's a slayer and Rio's a vampire, and things are, well, complicated. This is short and sweet and does a lovely job of rooting both Beth and Rio in this particular context. There's some really delightful banter too!

Older Period AUs

darlin', you're the only exception by @xstrawmari. A 19th Century Bridgerton AU! Need I say more! There's some really great character backstories here, and I especially love the way Risa is able to weave supporting canon characters into the mix. It leaves it feeling so familiar and so unique all at once.

O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do & Count on Revenge & non possum fugere by fortunehasgivenup / @fairhairedkings which are a Romeo & Juliet AU, a Count of Monte Cristo AU and a Portrait of a Lady on Fire AU. All are really rich and creative takes on existing stories that feel steeped in great worldbuilding and compelling takes on character dynamics. They're each really fun reads.

Happy reading 😊

#beth x rio #nbc good girls #gg fic #fic recs #welcome to my ama

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ahtsumu · 4 years

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again and again and again ; ushijima wakatoshi

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

synopsis: every august 13th, a void opens in your chest. the universe is one sick bastard.

tag(s): soulmate!au, very angsty, equally fluffy, reincarnation!au, prince!ushijima, rebel!ushijima. android!ushijima, dad!ushijima, pro-volleyball player!ushijima ; warning(s): lots of death n dying, suggestive themes, light profanity ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday ushi!!! inspired by cloud atlas and the raven cycle but you don’t have to have seen either to understand this fic. tbh it’s just a bunch of different au’s tied together by the strings of fate lol. a thousand thank you’s to @dorkyama for beta-ing!

TOKYO, JAPAN, 2020

It’s another August 13th and Ushijima Wakatoshi might die today.

Glumly, you push away the plate of breakfast in front of you, cross your arms over the new space, and rest your forehead down as if in front of a grave.

“Please,” you beg with eyes shut. “Let Ushijima Wakatoshi live today.”

(You’ve whispered this phrase infinite times–– so often that it has a home in your mouth like a cavity.)

SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON, 2012

When you first meet Ushijima–– the first first time–– it’s evening and you’re lost in a meadow somewhere in Washington. Where exactly doesn’t quite matter and, even if it did, you wouldn’t be able to remember. At least, not at this moment. Because you see something most peculiar.

Under the half-lit sky, in the glade of overgrown sweet vernal grass and marigolds and daisies, a figure stands paler than the moon overhead.

The body belongs to a young man dressed in a sweater and slacks. His dark hair parts on the side, stopping right above a pair of firm dark eyes. Thin lips press in a perfunctory line, sharp nose radiates an aura of authority.

And yet, he looks lost.

“Hello?” you call out. The boy doesn’t respond, only continues to hover in the middle of the clearing with the same confounded expression on his face. So you ignore the pounding of your heart in your chest and inch closer until you’re just feet away, shivering. It’s a strangely cold day for July, you think.

“Can you tell me your name?” you ask. Seconds pass in silence as he stares past–– no, through–– you. With your thudding heartbeat and shallow breaths still the only sounds in the meadow, you realise that you may have to try something else.

Gently, you touch the pads of your fingers to his shoulder. A fresh wave of ice floods through your veins, raising goosebumps all over your skin. More curiously, though, your fingers fall through said shoulders. It feels like plunging your hand into a bucket of ice.

Eyes wide, you lunge backwards. A ghost?

No, ghosts aren’t real.

(If that’s the case, then what is he?)

At your touch, the boy’s head jerks up. Life floods his gaze. Blinking, he says, “Ushijima.” His voice is low and smooth, but quiet. Firm. He looks around the meadow as if seeing it for the first time.

“Is that all?”

Ushijima’s focus returns to you, this time with the addition of furrowed brows. His eyes are fixed on you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s reading your soul.

“That’s all there is.”

A million questions race through your mind and before you can decide which to ask first, his incorporeal figure vanishes from the meadow.

And you’re alone again.

Oddly enough, the way back to your aunt’s house comes naturally to you. Once inside the ancient wooden manor, you realise that the feeling that guided you back was the same that had led you to the meadow in the first place.

Then, you wonder, had you truly been lost?

Aunt Risa’s an eccentric woman in her thirties, always yabbering on about Mercury in retrograde and events that are yet to happen. Grandma had been the same. Clairvoyance, or what everyone claims is “clairvoyance”, supposedly runs in your family. You wouldn’t know, though, because apparently it skipped your mother. Coincidentally (or not), she’s extremely proud of her normality. And she’s also extremely proud that you, supposedly, are normal, too.

It’s safe to say that you don’t see your mother’s family often.

Still, she sent you here from New York to “connect with your roots”. And even though you know that’s a cover for “raise hell somewhere else for one summer”, you let yourself consider that it means getting acquainted with the mystic mumbo-jumbo you’ve ignored all these years. After all, nothing normal can explain what just happened in the field… right?

Good thing Aunt Risa isn’t normal.

“That’s Glendower’s Meadow you were just in,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes. “Lies atop a very powerful ley line.”

Ley lines, you learn, connect places around the world through electromagnetic forces. They are also able to transcend time, gravity, space… all forces that cannot be seen.

Aunt Risa adds that they do more than just connect places. “Soulmates countries apart can step on any point in the same line to see each other. It’s been said that the power ley lines emit is so strong that even soulmates worlds and years apart can meet in these little pockets of energy. Guess it tides you over til you’re destined to meet.”

Somehow, everything she says makes sense and doesn’t at the same time. Soulmates? Magic? None of this is real, is it?

“Now,” she continues, “it’s odd that you can use ley lines, though. Remember how you couldn’t tell a black jackal from a swan the last time you read tea leaves?”

You frown. At seven years old, you hadn’t exactly been trying.

“I guess there is something supernatural about you! You can’t deny how magical it is to have a love that transcends lifetimes…”

You don’t hear the rest of what she has to say. “Lifetimes?”

“Yup. Soulmates are the only people in this universe who go through reincarnation. The Universe is a hopeless romantic, letting her children fall in love again and again and again.”

And this explanation satisfies you because you’re sixteen, a little naive, and the Universe has never failed you before.

(She will.)

July passes in a honeyed haze: you spend every day with a content curve to your lips, thinking about a boy with eyes and hair dark as night.

Aunt Risa doesn’t have the heart to tell you that she’s seen his future in this life. And when you step out the creaky wooden door for the last time, ready to go back to the bustling jungle that is New York, she calls out to you with an expression you don’t yet recognise. “Don’t you worry, hun. You’ll see that Ushijima boy again.”

But not like this.

You’re about to get out of bed and dress for the first day of school when an out-of-control eighteen-wheeler runs his driver’s black SUV off the road. Ushijima Wakatoshi dies on August 13th in his timezone.

As it happens, you feel a strange sense of loss settle in. It’s like you’d been driving on the highway and just missed the last turn home.

(You’ll learn in the next life that you, in fact, do not have the gift of foresight. But you do have the curse of memory.)

PARIS, FRANCE, 1749

The year is 1749 and sunlight pours through the windows of Ushijima Wakatoshi’s second-floor bedroom.

In this life–– your second life–– you are a brilliant composer. The Universe, as you’ve guessed, follows no rules, no directions. Doesn’t even spare a glance at a linear timeline. Or perhaps, it’s time that isn’t linear. Either way, you try not to think about things out of your control. Life is good now.

At the sound of your fingers waltzing across ivory and ebony, Ushijima slowly sits up in the king-sized, soft linen sheets falling to reveal his chiselled torso.

“Good morning,” he rasps, a content smile tugging at his lips. “You look enchanting as always.”

The melody stops. Between the lid and music rack, your eyes meet–– his gentle, yours mirthful. “You flatter me,” you deny with a cheeky grin. Still, you rise (wearing his robes, Ushijima notes) from your seat and stroll over to your lover, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. “Happy birthday, darling.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. “I live another year just for you.” Ushijima really means that–– in fact, he believes with his whole heart that he was made for you and you him. There’s no other way to explain how your bodies mould so perfectly together, how you understand each other without even speaking, how time feels like it doesn’t exist whenever you’re around. Your meeting at Duke La Trémoille’s ball could only have been the work of Fate’s nimble fingers.

(It was. A ley line runs underneath the Duke’s family château.)

You hum, thankful that this time you have the privilege to love him as he lives. Your last life was spent agonising over the only memory you had of him. “And what does this day have in store for the man of the hour?” The words that leave your lips morph into bubbling laughter as he moves aside on the bed and pulls you into his embrace. Still giggling, you kiss his bare chest, relishing in how secure his arms feel around your waist.

“Mother is hosting a ball tonight in my honour,” he says. That you are not invited to, he doesn’t add. He doesn’t have to, though, because you know that she doesn’t approve of you. Not being French is the main reason why, but there’s also the fact that you’re a musician. A talented, accomplished, royally recognised musician, sure, but that doesn’t change how at the end of the day, all you have to your name is inked paper.

And Ushijima Wakatoshi is first in line for the throne of France.

“Ah.”

It’s hardly fair for you to feel slighted–– you knew what you were getting into the second the Crown Prince, notorious for his aloof nature, invited you to Versailles to perform for him and his friends.

(In his defense, Duke Tendou had forced his hand by threatening to throw a fit in front of the Queen, but only after he’d seen the painfully restrained wonder in the prince’s eyes.)

Still, you yearn for something more.

Ushijima feels your body stiffen in his arms and knows the moment has soured. “You can never be Queen of France,” he murmurs into your neck. Shivers crawl down your spine the same time tears prick at your eyes. “And I can never give you a throne.” It’s not the throne you yearn for.

“I know.” You curse whoever the lucky girl will be. And you curse Ushijima for reminding you that she will definitely not be you.

“I can only promise you my heart.” He presses his lips to the side of your neck. “My undying devotion.” A kiss to your exposed shoulder. “And my soul in every life we meet.” His hand slides under your chin and turns your head towards his. Soft lips move against yours while the pads of his fingers wipe away the tears that had spilled over your cheeks.

“Toshi, I must say that the literature tutor your mother hired is doing a marvellous job,” you murmur once you pull apart.

A short breath of amusement leaves his nose. “He’s only polishing a gem that already exists,” Ushijima counters.

You smile slyly, another witty remark ready to launch from your mouth, when three sharp knocks at the door cause both of you to freeze.

“My friends, the Devil approaches.” Tendou’s faint voice travels through the opulent front door.

Sighing, you slide off the bed and tug your day dress on. Without being asked, Ushijima ties the laces in the back together. “Tell your mother I said hello, won’t you?” you tease, kissing him deeply on the balcony.

“I’d prefer not to think about my mother with your lips pressed to mine, darling,” he replies.

You giggle softly, and with one leg dangling off the balustrade, say, “And careful not to wear yourself out dancing, Toshi. Expect a visit from me later.”

His sonorous laughter rings through the air as you jump and land deftly on the freshly cut grass below, running the whole way back to your humble apartment in the eleventh arrondissement.

Regrets of not sneaking into the ball will burn into your brain after Tendou arrives at your door later that evening with a faraway stare on his face.

Towards the end of the ball, Ushijima Wakatoshi is led away from the dance floor and into the gardens by his scheming younger brother Goshiki.

He doesn’t return. The beloved Crown Prince of France dies on his twenty-first birthday with a dagger in his chest and poison in his veins.

With two lives under your belt, you reach the cruel understanding that in every life you live, August 13th is the day that Ushijima Wakatoshi dies again and again and again.

In a sense, memory is foresight.

NEO SEOUL, 2144

Tomorrow, the Union Revolutionary Group exposes the government for their crimes against your people.

But tonight, your head rests against his chest–– a habit you picked up sometime after Germany, 1943, even though you are presently in Neo Seoul, 2144. To be honest, you’re not sure if it’s even 2144. Neo Seoul’s calendar isn’t like the one you went through your first few lives with and you’re certain one year here is equivalent to two back on the Earth you knew… or something like that. Either way, every August 13th passes under your nose without detection. Every day passes uneasily, because although you never truly know when anyone dies in any life, you really don’t know when he will in this one.

But hearing Ushijima’s heart beat firmly manages to take the edge off yours. Every pulse is a murmured confirmation that everything is still okay.

You jerk back when he stirs from sleep. Disorientated, Ushijima blinks at your dimly lit figure before registering that it’s you. A confused expression crosses his features. What had you just been doing?

“Is everything alright?” His voice is raspy with drowsiness but he sits upright against the headboard anyway.

“Yeah.”

“No, it’s not. Tell me what’s wrong.” Nothing ever slips past him–– at least, not when it comes to you. Still, you bite your lip and contemplate if it’s worth mentioning. Three years of working alongside the renegade Commander (and hundreds more from other lifetimes) have taught you that words of comfort do not belong in Ushijima’s vocabulary. But it’s the night before you, the only known freed Fabricant working with the Union, are going to expose the Unanimity’s enslavement of Fabricants to all inhabitants of Neo Seoul. And…

“I’m scared, Wakatoshi.”

He thinks you’re talking about tomorrow. His eyes dart to the holographic digits floating throughout his room. 12:02 AM. You’re talking about today, then. He’s not wrong–– you are afraid of today. But you’re also afraid every day.

Ushijima pauses, wondering what to say. He’s never felt fear the same way others do. Others might only see a myriad of ways they can fail or die but he simply sees a chance to prove himself. A chance to emerge victorious. “If you let yourself be scared,” he says, “then you lose without fighting. Fear is a wasted emotion. Even at your last breath, you should never be afraid.”

As you mull his words over in your head, a section of your hair falls in front of your face. Ushijima’s fingers twitch. Would it be too much to––

“Then what should I feel instead?” He stills.

The question hangs in the air, thickening until the spacious room feels suffocating. Normal people–– people you knew a couple of lifetimes ago–– would probably say something like “love” or “hope” or even “don’t”. You think Ushijima might, too.

But when Ushijima speaks, he says, “Feel right now.”

A shift in the moonbeam pouring through your surrounding glass walls casts a muted glow over your features, breaking through the darkness of the room. Ushijima’s olive eyes flash and fall to your shining lips.

His Adam’s apple bobs. Anticipation bubbles in your stomach.

You think that you might die tomorrow. He might die any day. What are you waiting for?

Feeling a fiery rush of blood surge through your veins, you close the distance between your bodies until the tips of your noses touch. Gently, your hand comes up to the back of his neck, feeling his pulse speed up under your fingers. He instantly reaches out, grips your waist firmly. Hot, uneven breaths fan across your face.

“What––”

“I know it’s forbidden between Fabricants and pure-bloods,” you breathe out, “but––”

Ushijima nudges his lips against yours. They move stiffly, unsurely, but it’s sincere. It’s his first kiss and it’s your… you’ve lost count by now. It doesn’t really matter, though. Past, future, or present, every one of his touches feels new.

Both of you might die tomorrow. But tonight, you both are so very alive.

And when his heart pounds, unmuffled, bare against yours, you are reminded to live now.

Twenty-one hours later, a laser beam whizzes past your ear.

“Go faster!” you shout over the wind, tightening your arms around Ushijima’s waist. “We have to get to the broadcast station now.”

“I’m trying,” he grits out, pressing his foot harder against the hoverbike’s pedal. You speed up, but only a little. “Fuck. Remember what I taught you about the laser pistols?”

“Always aim a little higher than you want to.” From the mirrors on the side, you see the corners of his lips quirk up. You reach for the gun in his belt.

Not a single police officer remains on your tail when you step foot into the broadcast station.

“We don’t have much time, miracle girl,” Tendou, a fellow Union soldier, says once you arrive. He punches the elevator button. Instantly, the chute opens. “Cameras have picked up on at least five Unanimity squads headed our way from the city.”

The sinking feeling that today out of all days might be August 13th suddenly weighs on your stomach. A shaky breath leaves your mouth.

Ushijima stops you before you can step in. Cupping your face with his large hands, the brunet gazes deeply into your eyes. “I believe in you,” he murmurs. “I believe in you.” His fingers brush against your cheekbones. You let your eyelids close, relishing in this stolen moment between two new lovers.

Ushijima presses his lips against yours, kissing you as if he’s trying to carve a message into your bones. He whispers his conviction one last time before stepping back and allowing Tendou to push you lightly into the elevator. The thought that Ushijima’s words allude to more than just faith nudges your brain as the two men grow smaller in your sight.

Halfway through your revelations, the Unanimity cuts through the metal doors of the station. Behind the glass panels encasing the radio room, you watch the shootout begin. Every bone in your body screams for you to join your comrades, but you remember what your orders are. No matter what happens, do not stop the broadcast. If the truth doesn’t come out now, the Union will have sacrificed everything in vain.

You will your voice to steady when Unanimity soldiers take out the Union soldiers hiding behind Tendou’s barricade.

You will your hands to unclench when Ushijima deftly slides over his squad’s barricade and tosses a plasma grenade towards a cluster of enemy soldiers, then picks off the survivors with his Union rifle.

You will your breath to endure when the brunet is blown back by a grenade tossed by another squadron. Ushijima’s cranium collides with the floor. His body stills; blood red as cherry wine pools around his head like a cruel halo. Swallowing, you push forth. You’re a soldier.

But you can’t help the way your throat dries or hands shake or lungs tighten when you see his head turn ever-so-slightly in your direction.

He smiles in his last breath.

(The Archivist asks if you loved Ushijima before you are taken away. You tell him you always have, do, will.

The Unanimity guillotine doesn’t scare you like you think it should. Knowing what and who waits ahead, it feels more like a kiss to your neck.)

QAASUURI, 3003

As you step out of the metal carriage, the ground beneath you begins to vibrate. This, as you’ve learned, can only mean that you are standing atop another ley line.

Olive eyes stare at you impassively when you look up. A dazzling array of awards and medals is pinned to his chest over a white military uniform. Compared to all the other soldiers around him, you gather that the deep purple cape over his shoulders means he’s someone important. Possibly your betrothed? You briefly recall another lifetime in which he’d been the crown prince of somewhere, and you, by a spectacular stroke of misfortune, had only been a composer then. Fighting back a smug grin, you muse that this time, you are a princess.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, Captain of the Qaasuuri Royal Guard, at your service,” he says with a low bow. “King Washijou appointed me to ensure your safety during your courtship with the prince, your highness. These are trying times, especially with the war against Ibis.” Your heart falls. So it’s one of those lives.

Mustering the warmest smile you can, you curtsy and say, “Thank you, Ushijima. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

You do.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the Qaasuuri are a race more android than human. But nothing about him feels artificial. He is as real as he was in Berlin. Atlantis. Cairo. Camelot. Hanoi. Olympus. Tallahassee. He feels as human, too.

You get to relearn the way his cheeks flare up when you call him Toshi and not Ushijima for his first time (force of habit)... and every subsequent time (at your pleasure).

You get to relearn his wry humour, how every-so-often his stony demeanour breaks after one of your quick jabs, usually in response to his agonisingly blunt remarks. (“You should have brought a coat, princess,” he notes with disapproval when you shiver in the chilly spring air. You promise him that you look better with hypothermia than in any Qaasuuri coat. An amused breath blows out from his nose. And though he doesn’t say a word more on the subject, his white jacket over your shoulders speaks more than enough.)

You get to relearn how his hands feel on your skin. The first lesson is your mistake: missing a step down the spiralling staircase on your way to dinner. Automatically, his hand grips your arm to pull you back. He uses a little more force than necessary, though, and tugs you into his firm chest. Neither of you can look at each other for the rest of the evening. The second is his mistake: reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you read in the palace library, somehow knowing it’s one of your pet peeves. Both of you freeze when his fingers accidentally brush against your cheek. Ushijima thinks he’s never felt skin softer than yours–– you think it’s been too long since he last touched you.

The third is neither a mistake nor just one of your doings. It happens on a cool autumn evening as the two of you walk through the palace gardens with your hands dangling haphazardly at your sides, knocking against each other again and again as if begging for an opening. Finally, you acquiesce. You slip your hand into Ushijima’s cold palms. And though nothing shows on his stony face, his heart whirrs like an overheating engine for the rest of your walk. He doesn’t let go until the iron palace comes back into view.

“We should stop,” he pants between fervent kisses, “before this gets out of hand.” You nip at his neck. “You’re betrothed to the prince––” you suck on the skin between his collarbones and throat, drawing a low groan from his lips “––and I can never give you a throne.”

You pull back, knees on either side of his waist, and stare down into his eyes. “I don’t want a throne.” Ushijima watches you with rapt attention. Sometimes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he remembers. Slowly, you repeat his words from lifetimes ago. “I only want your heart.” An unreadable expression crosses his face. “Your devotion.” It’s not recognition. “And your soul.”

It’s conviction.

By now you’ve seen many breathtaking things: entire cities built from ice, the end of the ocean, a Venusian sunrise. None compare to Ushijima Wakatoshi with his pupils blown wide, hair tousled, lips flushed. Red with love.

None compare when he promises, “You have that and more.”

A pause.

“Show me.”

With an effortless flip, Ushijima’s muscled body hovers over yours, olive eyes flashing wildly in your dim chambers.

Amid fast breaths and guttural moans, amid steely olive eyes and parted lips, amid the subatomic space between your bodies, you feel it cloak your skin like armour.

Love.

(The Ibis storm the Qaasuuri castle one month before the wedding. Ushijima fights the invaders valiantly, superhuman modifications undoubtedly being of help. But there’s just too many of them. The last thing he tells you is to run. The world burns when you look over your shoulder, only to see a Ibisian sword drive through his heart.

The Qaasuuri are a race more android than human. But they still bleed the same.)

TOKYO, JAPAN, 2018

The oldest you ever witness him live to is thirty-two years old.

It’s the morning of August 13th and you walk into the kitchen to the sight of Ushijima Wakatoshi lifting your daughter up into the sky, spinning her little body around in circles, the pancakes on the stove slowly bronzing to a mouthwatering shade of gold.

“Mommy!” she giggles when she sees you. Leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, you watch your husband set your daughter back down on the ground with a soft smile on his face.

“Sleep well?” you ask, ruffling her hair. She nods happily and bounces back to the stove. Her latest obsession has been cooking in the kitchen, though you’re not sure when exactly she moved on from “potion-making” in the backyard.

“Morning,” Ushijima murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you tease, leaning into his chest. As the words leave your mouth, the sunny morning haze cools into desaturated blue. But it’s been thirty-two years, you reason with a hard swallow. Maybe the cycle has broken. Your eyes dart to your daughter’s little figure on the stepping stool, her small hands gripping the spatula flipping a bronzed pancake over to its pale side. How would she…

You steel yourself, though a small fissure can’t help but open in your heart from the force.

She isn’t your first child and she won’t be your last. Time, you’ve learned, likes to play games, likes to set you on the same storyline again and again just to see if another ending will show itself. There will be more tomorrows and more yesterdays. There always is.

But that doesn’t make todays hurt any less.

Ushijima tilts his head to the side, olive eyes peering into yours. “Is everything okay?” He never misses (or missed) anything–– not when the two of you were heisting in Switzerland or revelling in Alexandria like Dionysians, not when you were crammed in the same codebreaking room during World War I or sailed across the Atlantic to your doom in 1912. Not now.

But you’re tired of carrying each bygone lifetime into the next. Willing yourself to forget the fact that you’ve seen him die again and again on August 13th, you put everything into the lie that slips your teeth: “More than okay.”

You choose to cherish the present.

“Order up!” your daughter exclaims, proudly presenting the plate of pancakes to you and Ushijima. “I even made one shaped like a heart for Dad for his birthday!”

With a grin, you come closer to inspect the heart-shaped pancake. “Excellent work, sous chef!” you compliment, tapping her nose lightly. It’s sharp like her father’s. She, however, inherited your eyes. You turn around to face your husband. “What does Head Chef Ushijima think?”

Smiling softly, he takes the plate from her hands and, without a second look, says, “It’s perfect. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Breakfast passes in a blur of laughter and honey.

(You think you have gone through another August 13th unscathed when night falls and all of your friends exit through the cherry wood doors of one of Tokyo’s finest restaurants. On the car ride home, however, your white SUV swerves to avoid a deer in the road and flips once, twice, three times.

You wake up neither a mother nor a wife.)

TOKYO, JAPAN, 2020

A subtle sigh of relief exits your lungs when Ushijima Wakatoshi enters through the front door at 12:01 AM, red Team Japan suitcase in hand. He’s back from the airport. More importantly, he’s alive.

“Did I make it?” he asks with an upturned corner of his mouth. His olive eyes are half-closed from the exhausting transatlantic flight and his muscles are still a bit sore from how vigorously he played the game against Argentina (Oikawa’s team, for god’s sake)... but he’s here.

And he can’t be any happier.

You know that he’s talking about the time, probably hoping to joke that coming home to you is the best birthday present he can imagine. In that regard, he technically hasn’t made it.

And yet, you leap into his arms and press kisses all over his face as you repeat “yes” again

and again

and again.

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arahxdjarin · 3 years

Text

Wicked Desires

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Tags: throat fucking, some angst, some fluff too!, dom reader if you squint, unprotected sex, Loki kneeling, rough sex

Notes: I've decided to change this from a 5/6 chapter fic to a 9/10 chapter fic! so expect more from Loki and reader! I will warn you guys, next chapter is very angsty, I'm going to try to update about once a week but that may be subject to change. Enjoy besties!

Wicked Desires, Chapter 3

You place the thin, dark emerald dress on your body and tiptoe out of Loki’s chambers, two guards are stationed outside the doors, they don’t even move as you walk past them, you raise a hand in front of one of their faces, he doesn’t flinch or show any sign that he sees you there. You look down at the pendant and smile a bit realizing Loki’s magic is working. Making your way back to your chambers, you look down at the dress as it moves around you. It was quite a beautiful dress, a soft satin that clung to your skin, the entire dress being held up by two thin straps that wrap around your neck, the neckline dipping all the way down your torso, barely covering your breasts. Your back is completely exposed to the warm Asgardian spring air. There’s two high slits on either of your thighs, showing your entire leg when you walk forward. The immodesty of it caused you to blush, but you couldn’t help feeling powerful in it, it looks like you belong at Loki’s side.

You hurry into your chambers, glad to find them completely empty, you had nothing to do today besides crafting a dress for the upcoming spring celebrations, you sigh as you sit next to your sewing station deciding to busy your mind with creating a pattern until you leave for Loki’s chambers once nightfall comes.

A low whistle pulls you away from your work, you turn to see your best friend and chambermate come through the door, her arms filled with fabrics and flowers.

“Quite an extraordinary dress, does this have anything to do with why you were gone all night?” Her fingers grab the material by your hip, her eyes widening once she feels how luscious and expensive the fabric feels.

“Actually yes Risa, I was gone all night putting it together, I was hoping to use it for the spring festival but I made it a bit too risqué so it’ll be saved for a more appropriate event.” Risa’s eyes crinkle, she could always tell when you were lying but she decided to just nod her head and set the rest of her supplies down next to you.

“Well, I have to leave again but I thought I would bring you some more fabric. Are you still ok with making my dress for the festival as well?” You nod your head slowly, her harsh blue eyes still holding yours, she smiles a bit as she turns to walk towards the door again.

“You’ll have to tell me who he is at some point.” The door closes behind her but her words continue to bounce around the room, she knows you too well, of course she would notice if something was amiss. You grip the edge of the table trying to calm your breath, maybe you shouldn’t go see Loki tonight, it would be too suspicious if you were gone two nights in a row. The logical part of you knew that is exactly what you should do, but the illogical part of you, the selfish part Loki has brought out is screaming for you to go to him, let him devour you whole, feel his hands burn their mark into your skin. You clench your thighs together thinking of his words last night,

‘The smell of me, the taste of me, the feel of me, will be burned into your mind always. Because you are mine.’ How right he was, one night of passionate fucking and you were ready to throw everything to the wind to feel his lips on your skin again.

You loosen your grip on the table and slump back into your chair, staring at the fabric in front of you, your fingers run over the smooth fabric of the dress, the motion soothes your racing thoughts. Your fingers pause, you stare at the fabric and then back to the sewing machine, a small smirk tugs on your lips as a devious thought pops into your mind.

You’re hunched over your table putting the final touches on your dress when there’s a soft knock on your door. You stand up and smooth the fabric of your regular everyday skirt walking to the door to see who was behind it, you open it slightly and see a guard. He just hands you a simple piece of paper and turns to walk away. Your eyebrows raise in confusion, you open the note. The words cause you to shut the door quickly, as if anyone who walks by can somehow read the words that were obviously meant for your eyes only.

“Darling, I’ll be all yours shortly, wait for me in my chambers, if you aren’t wearing my dress then I expect you to be wearing nothing at all.”

Yours,

You fold the note up and place it in the small pocket of your skirts, moving back to the dress you just finished working on, you quickly drop your average dress to the ground and step back into the gorgeous dress Loki gave you, now with slight modifications. You fold up your dress and set it on a chair in your room, closing the door tightly. You move quickly around the common room to tidy the mess you left before finally exiting your chambers to make your way to his.

The walk is shorter than you remember, or the nerves are just higher this time. Once again the guards don’t notice your presence at all, you quietly slip into his chambers, you expect to be alone but Loki is sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand. His eyes widen as he takes in your attire. He sets the glass down and stands up, never taking his eyes on you. He holds his hand out and you walk towards him, placing your hand in his own, he twirls you, the dress fans out showing him all your additions.

“Is this the dress I gave you?” His voice sends a shiver through you, it's full of curiosity and amusement.

“It is, but I needed to add my own touches to it.” His hand drops yours to touch the soft gold glittery fabric you added to cover the bodice and skirt, his hand roams across it before reaching up to touch the gold gems you added to the neckline, his hand lingers on top of your chest, his eyes meeting yours again, he smirks as his fingers inch their way underneath the neckline to rub against your nipple.

“You added to its beauty, but I do believe my note specified for you to be wearing my dress. Since you’ve gone and added to it, it’s now no longer my dress, but yours. Strip.” You glare at him as you move the straps off your shoulders letting the fabric fall off your body to pool at your feet.

“Is that better, Your Highness?” Your words drip off your tongue with malicious sarcasm. Loki’s eyes harden but the smirk never leaves his lips, he moves so quickly you don’t have time to dodge his advance, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You try to wiggle out of his hold but it’s impossible, he begins walking towards his room. He lands a loud smack to your backside before dropping you on the bed unceremoniously, you huff as your body bounces on the soft mattress. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, heat fills your body as your mind replays the events of last night when you were in quite a similar situation.

“Turn around and hang your head off the bed.” You quirk an eyebrow at him but do as he says, you hang your head off the end of the bed, now looking at Loki upside down, you take in his appearance, he’s wearing his usual leathers, his hair looks the same but he has an unmistakable glimmer in his eye, you repress another shiver when he meet your eyes. He works to undo his trousers, letting them fall to the floor before he works to undo his top, quick enough he’s as naked as you. Loki bends at the knee until his eyes are level with yours, his hand wraps around your throat as his lips crush into yours, he kisses you fiercely, his tongue making quick work into your mouth, you let out a small whimper as he nips at your lips before pulling away. He looks in your eyes, his hand tightening slightly.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now, if you need me to stop, tap my right thigh three times, do you understand?” You nod, Loki places a soft kiss to your lips before standing, breaking the kiss. You stare at the underside of his hard cock as he strokes it, his eyes fixed on your face. You open your mouth and press your tongue against the head of his cock, eliciting a soft hiss from Loki, he rubs his head against your lips for a moment, teasing both himself and you.

“Use me Loki. I’m going to enjoy this just as much as you do.” That was all the encouragement Loki needed to slam his hips forward, his cock burying itself inside your mouth, your throat constricts around him fighting the intrusion. Loki brings his hand to the side of your neck massaging gently, helping your muscles relax. You open your jaw wider, shifting your head allowing Loki to thrust with ease, his fingers shake on your skin, you let out a small whimper as the pleasure of feeling him claiming your mouth with his cock. Loki hisses through his teeth and drops his other hand to the bed next to your shoulder. You open your eyes momentarily and can only see Loki’s body looming over you, his balls moving next to your forehead. You squeeze your eyes shut and move your tongue, trying to stroke the underside of him.

Loki’s hand tightens around your throat, his fingers still caressing the muscles there, keeping you calm. His thrusts are controlled and even, like he’s trying to refrain from possibly injuring you. Your mind is finally wrapping around the situation, your hands snake up from where they lay at your side clutching the duvet to scratch against his defined stomach, his hips pause for a second. Your hands move from his stomach, running over the smooth skin and muscle to his hips, you dig your nails in and swirl your tongue around him, letting him know you didn’t want him to stop. His hips resume their controlled thrusts, he lets out a soft whine as your fingers dig in deeper to the skin of his hips.

The sound was like music to your ears, you clench your thighs and rub them together, thrusting your hips upwards. You never thought you could gain so much pleasure from pleasuring someone else, but here you were writhing underneath Loki while he used your mouth and body as if you were nothing more than a pretty toy. You enjoyed it too, you loved feeling like you were his own personal sex doll, the feeling of him filling you was intoxicating and you were falling head first into an unhealthy addiction. The thought almost made you laugh, you were addicted to Loki, it was the best way to put it. The way his fingers touched you, the way his tongue seemed to know you better than you knew yourself, the way his cock felt buried deeply inside of you. It was intoxicating, addicting, you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to. Which you knew you should, you should stop this. It’ll never end well, if the circumstances were different then maybe — you push the thought from your mind, you don’t need to worry yourself with that, not when Loki is moaning and groaning above you because you’re bringing him pleasure. You refocus on the moment and drag your nails down his hips, his thrust stutters, the hand by your shoulder moves and you know he’s getting close.

You think back to last night when he explained he enjoyed being hit with the crop, maybe he enjoys a bit of pain with his pleasure. You move your lips, allowing your teeth to scrape against the sensitive skin of his cock. He hisses in pleasure before he rips his cock from your mouth, he bends his knees until his eyes meet yours again, his hand tightens around your throat.

“You’re getting brave little fox, I love watching you explore pleasure” his hand moves from your throat to stroke your face, his breath is labored and his eyes still hold a look of unbridled lust. “And as much as I would love to cum in your pretty little mouth, I have so much more planned for tonight, kneel on the bed in front of me.” You scramble up quickly at his command, you sit back on your heels, looking up at Loki’s face. Even kneeling on his large bed you were still several inches shorter than him. His hands move to either side of your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin of your cheeks. You let him lean your head back, his hands move from your face to your neck. Loki leans forward and brushes his lips against your own.

“What do you want darling?” Your breath hitches as Loki turns your head to the side to run his nose along the side of your face.

“You.” Was all you were able to croak out, Loki’s warm breath fans across your face as he lets out a soft chuckle.

“And you have me, but I’m asking what you want right now.” Loki slips his tongue out and licks a stripe up your neck, he hums quietly, blowing cool air over the spot he just licked. Your fingers reach out to tangle in his hair, you turn your face to meet his eyes.

“I want to ride you, I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to shatter around you until I can no longer think of anything besides your name.” Loki’s eyes light up at your words and before you can even comprehend what’s happening he moves onto the bed pulling you onto his lap.

“Who would I be if I didn’t oblige every one of your desires and fantasies darling?” You sit straddling his lap, your fingers interlock behind his neck, he presses his forehead against yours as he guides his cock to your entrance. You both groan as you sink onto his length, his hands grip your hips to help you move. You bury your face in his neck as his cock stretches you open, you bounce up and down, cherishing the feeling of his cock buried deeply inside you. Loki’s hands massage and pull at the flesh of your hips eliciting another loud moan from your throat. His steady hold helps you keep rhythm. A sheen layer of sweat forms on the back of your neck as you continue to work yourself on his cock, the drag of it coupled with the new intense position was quickly working you to your climax.

You turn your head from his neck to capture his lips. Loki lifts one of his hands from your hips to crush your face against his. His tongue consumes your mouth in a sloppy, passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as he pulls your body closer to his, your clit catching on the skin of his groin.

“Loki — Loki I want us to cum together.”

“Then I suggest you hurry little fox, you’ve had me on edge since you walked through the door in that dress.” Loki’s hands on you tightens, he moves his hips to meet each one of your thrusts, the pressure builds quickly in your lower stomach, all the skin in contact with Loki heats as you race towards your climax.

“Loki, Gods I’m going to cum!” Your orgasm hits full force, you slump against Loki’s chest as he continues to thrust upwards into you, he lets out a loud groan and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“I’m your God darling, only me.” Loki’s chest rises and falls quickly. He falls back against the bed, holding you close to his chest. His hand moving to brush your hair away from your face. You shift your hips, feeling Loki still inside you. You try to move off his lap but he holds you against his chest. Locking you in place on top of him.

“Loki, I need to go back to my own chambers tonight, my friend brought up how I didn’t come home last night. It'll be too suspicious if I’m gone again tonight.” You try to pull away again but Loki doesn’t loosen his hold on you.

“You can spare a few more hours darling.” For some reason his words anger you. You push with all your might and he finally releases you.

“Loki, you are not risking anything by seeing me, I’m risking everything. I can not be caught up in this. I will not, I’ve worked too hard to have it crumbled by you.”

“Little fox, I’ve promised you safety, I meant that. Stay with me a while longer, we’ve just gotten started.” You stand from the bed quickly, trying to ignore the wobble of your legs, you walk from his bed chambers back to where your dress lays against the ground.

“No, I need to get back before anyone else notices my absence. I’m willing to bruise your ego to make sure my reputation is not defamed.” You turn to see Loki standing naked, his face looks pained for a moment before it returns to it’s normal stoic expression. He turns his head to the side, the green glow appears, he’s suddenly fully dressed again.

“Very well then. It seems I misunderstood our arrangement.” You narrow your eyes at his words.

“Our arrangement? If I remember correctly last night we only talked about my selfishness? You allowing me to explore pleasure. Now who’s the one being selfish?” You walk closer to him, until your chests are touching. You stare into his eyes with as much intensity as you could muster.

“Then stay and continue to be selfish darling. Can you look me in my eyes and tell me that you want to leave right now?” His hand comes up to touch the side of your face but you move away and look at the ground before he can.

“It’s not about what I want Loki, I can’t be swept up into rumors.” Loki moves quickly to wrap his arms around you, his fingers moving to the straps of your dress, he slowly pushes them off your shoulders. You want to move, you know you should move but his soft touch keeps you firmly planted in your spot.

“You’re right you shouldn’t be swept into rumors, and I’ll see to it that you're not. I can charm a double of you to go to your chambers, it’ll walk past everyone and go straight to your room to sleep.” Loki pushes the straps completely off your shoulders, letting the fabric pool around your feet for the second time tonight. He pushes your hair behind your ear and kisses your lips with fervor. You finally move to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Loki easily pulls you off the ground, walking towards the couch. He sits with you straddling his lap, your lips fight his for dominance, if you’re going to stay he needs to give up control. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you pull his head. He stares up at you in amusement.

“If I’m staying you’ll have to make it worth my while.” Loki tries to move his head but you keep a firm hold.

“I fully intend to, darling, all you have to do is ask for what you want.” You lower your mouth until it's close to his face. You feel him shiver when your lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck just below his ear.

“I want to be in control darling .” Loki’s normal term of endearment falls off your lips smoothly, his hips buck up into you as his arms tighten around you.

“Anything you wish for, little fox, the control is all yours.” At his words you pull his head up and lick into his mouth.

“I think I’d like you better on your knees.” His breath catches but he’s quick to set you carefully on the couch before kneeling between your legs. “It’s a bit unfair that you're fully dressed, why don’t you change that?” The green glow appears around Loki, once it disappears you take in his full nude body again. You meet his eyes and you’re captivated by the intensity behind them, you notice his small smirk, he seems fully amused at the stunt you’ve pulled. You didn’t think you’d make it this far, your mind goes blank trying to think of how Loki commanded you last night. You just wanted to prove a point, but now you're determined to see it through.

“I think I rather like you being in charge.” Loki presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh as he speaks. You lean forward to grab his jaw, tilting his face to look up at you.

“Don’t speak unless I say so, now be good and bury your face between my legs, you said the night had barely started, why don’t you show me what else you had in mind.” Loki’s eyes narrow slightly, he presses an open mouth kiss high up on your thigh before dragging his lips closer to your center. Your fingers stroke his hair as he licks a long stripe up to your clit, his mouth latches there. Your head falls back and you let out a high pitched whine, his mouth is fucking magical. Loki wraps his fingers around your thighs, pulling them onto his shoulders. His tongue continues to swirl around your clit and the surrounding area. You tug on his hair pulling his head even closer to you. You look down and see his eyes are still trained on your face. You push the stray hairs away from his eyes, whispering praise to him. Loki hums, his eyes closing as he drives you closer to your peak. You roll your hips on his face to create more friction. Loki’s hands tighten around your thighs, his fingers scraping against your skin.

“Fingers— add your fingers, I’m so close.” His right hand peels away from your thigh and works its way to your entrance, he teases you for a moment before sinking two of his fingers into your cunt. His fingers mixed with his tongue pushes you over the edge into another mind shattering orgasm, your grip tightens on his hair as you buck your hips into his face, he moves with you and lets your orgasm work through your body in full. Loki places a few soft kisses to your inner thigh before pulling away to look at you.

“What else would you like, little fox? I’m here for you to use.” His words send another shockwave through your body. You sit up further and turn around, your fingers grip the back of the couch as you arch your back. You turn your head to look at Loki.

“Take me from behind, and don’t be gentle.” You watch as a devious smile spreads on Loki’s face, he stands to his full height, towering over you. You turn your head to keep his eye contact, he lets his fingers trail down your spine as he lines up with your entrance. You feel the blunt head of his cock rubbing against your cunt, sending more pleasure through your body. The head of his cock presses inside of you and he pauses for a second. His hands moving to your hips. He pulls you back roughly until he’s buried deeply inside of you again for the second time tonight. His fingers dig into the bruises he left the night before as he viciously thrusts into you. Your head falls forward to touch your forehead against the soft fabric of the couch. You swear this is the deepest Loki has ever been inside of you, his thrusts continue relentlessly. You arch your back more, the angle changes causing both of you to groan. You reach a hand between your thighs to rub at your over sensitive clit. Loki catches your hand and places it back on the couch before sneaking his own hand between your legs.

“Your pleasure belongs to me darling — oh I’m sorry am I allowed to talk yet?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. You throw your head back to look at him and aren’t surprised to see the signature smirk on his lips.

“Shut up and fuck me harder.” Your words wipe the smirk right off his face, his thrusts become brutal, abusing your poor cunt. His fingers speed up on your clit, yet again launching you closer to another orgasm.

“You’re so worried about your reputation darling, yet you aren’t worried for them to see you limping for the next week?” Your fingers tighten on the couch, your nails digging into the fabric deeply. If you weren’t so close to your release you would push him off you and leave right now. Loki feels you tighten and flutter around him, he leans over the couch moving his hand from your hip to cover your own.

“Stay with me tonight little fox — please.” Loki’s voice sounds strained against your ear, your heart stops for a second, you’ve never known Loki, the God of Mischief, to ever beg anyone for anything. Your fingers spread letting him interlock his own with yours as he continues the brutal rhythm.

“Just for the night.” You whisper back to him, turning your face to look at him. He lips meet yours desperately, he murmurs something against them but you're to swept up in your own pleasure to figure out what he had said. Your orgasm peeks on a particularly violent thrust, you flutter around Loki, pressing your hips back further to grind against him. Loki shifts behind you, wrapping both his arms around your stomach, his forehead presses against your spine as he continues to thrust into you, slower now. His arms are the only thing holding you up at this point, your entire body has liquified with the power of your third orgasm. Loki lets out a soft groan behind you, his teeth scraping against the skin of your back. He hips slowing to a stop. He pulls out of you as gently as possible but you still hiss at the feeling of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls. Loki lays your body against the soft couch, he gets up and works his way into the bathing room and returns quickly with a steaming towel. He presses it between your thighs to clean you. The intimacy of the action causes heat to rise to your cheeks.

You watch as his eyebrows furrow, his hand gently working the soft, warm towel between your legs, you almost giggle at how focused he looks. Once he’s satisfied with his work the towel disappears in a green glow and his eyes move to look at you.

“Lets go lay down” Loki helps you stand on your shaky legs and places a hand on the small of your back, leading you to his bed again, he places a kiss to your lips before he pulls back the duvet for you to lay down.

“I can’t keep disappearing every night to come here.” Loki sighs at your words as he gets into the bed on his respective side. He pulls you close against his body and begins to mindlessly play with your hair.

“You’re right, what about every other night?” You prop yourself up to glare at him.

“Once a week.” Loki narrows his own eyes at you. You hold his gaze until his features soften again.

“Once a week it is then, but just now you’re welcome in my bed any day of the week, you have an open invitation to my rooms.” You settle back down against his chest, his fingers move back to your hair.

“I’m only here right now because you asked so nicely, I didn’t think you had manners, it seems I was mistaken.” Loki lets out a small laugh at your playful insult.

“You’re the only one who will ever receive that treatment from me.” You turn your head to look at him, his eyes meet yours, he looks so tired, not just physically, he looks mentally exhausted.

“And why is that Loki?” Loki’s eyes light up a bit, a soft smile tugs on his lips.

“I’ve told you little fox, you’ve piqued my interest, your presence is intoxicating. I’ll do anything to keep you at my side, including asking nicely — and maybe I’ll even admit I’m wrong at some point, but don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late, I think my ego could rival yours now.” Loki laughs again, his fingers rub at your scalp and you’re quickly lulled into another peaceful sleep tucked next to Loki’s side.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki #loki ragnarok

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